


Mercy of Time

by Skellington24



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Child Abuse, Childhood Sweethearts, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forgive Me, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, M/M, Obsessive Tom Riddle, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Powerful Harry, Protective Tom Riddle, Romance, Smart Harry, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skellington24/pseuds/Skellington24
Summary: After the abuse becomes too much for young Harry to handle, his magic lashes out to protect him. Alone and abandoned, Time takes Harry back in time, hoping to rescue both him and another young wizard from the darkness set to warp their futures. Not even she knows the outcome of her actions, or the consequences this has for the Wizarding World.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort
Comments: 100
Kudos: 1030





	1. 1934

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me, and the words flowed on there own, but I don't actually have a plan for where I'm going with this. I'm sort of making it up as I go along, but there's a basic 'plot' in my head. Feel free to leave a comment with suggestions, or how you think things are going. Thanks ^-^

**(Harry's P.O.V)** -1988

Despite having no friends, and being hated by most of my teachers, I loved going to school. Learning was fun. English was my favourite, Miss Clarks was really nice and gave me smiley face stickers on my work. She always said I was her best student, which made me smile. I wasn't good at anything else, so being told I was a good reader meant so much. She helped me pick books in the library at lunch, books for over 10-year-olds even though I was only 7. It made me feel like I was something more than the freak Dudley always called me and gave me a place to hide when he wanted to chase him to hurt me. Nobody else at school hurt me or made me do everything, not like at home. I was going to miss school, especially Miss Clarks.

On the day I was taken away, everyone seemed to be in a bad mood.

I got home and Auntie Petunia hit me around the head for taking so long. I didn't think I had, but if I said that she'd hit me again, so I let her drag me into the kitchen so I could clean the sides and do the dishes. I tried to not feel jealous as she gave Dudley a big chocolate bar and let him sit in front of the TV. It was like that all the time but still made me angry. He was so fat, he didn't need any more chocolate. But frowning at my cousin wouldn't clean the kitchen. I wet the yellow sponge for wiping the counter next to the sink, like I did every day, so it was clean before I started the dirty plates with the pink sponge. For a moment, I wished I could do both. Scrub the counters with one sponge and the dishes with another, then I could go to my bedroom and read _'Little Women'_. It was Miss Clarks' favourite, and she thought I was finally ready to read it.

My auntie screamed from the living room, and I jumped back. The yellow sponge I'd left on the side was moving, washing the counter again and moving to the other side of the kitchen to clean while my hands had been in the sink. I dropped the plate I held in shock, smashing it on the floor. The noise sparked reaction and Auntie Petunia grabbed the closest thing, a poker from the fireplace, and rushed over to hit my head. The yellow sponge stopped moving as I hit the floor. She screamed at me to get in my cupboard and I ran. It took a lot for my auntie to hit me, but whenever anything like that happened it was almost natural. She couldn't hit very hard, her arms were too skinny. But it hurt when Uncle Vernon did it.

I was too scared to make a noise while my auntie rushed to fix the mess, I didn't even want to read while I waited for my uncle to come home. That's when I knew I'd end up hurt. He always hurt me, even when I hadn't done anything. And because he hit me, Dudley hit me too. Before I thought it was because I deserved it, I was a freak and a burden to them. But I didn't deserve to be punished all the time, with uncle's belt or the gross touching. Even thinking about him telling me it _'looks bigger in those little hands'_ made me feel sick. Nobody deserved this life.

I was so busy thinking that I hadn't heard Uncle Vernon come home. The banging on my cupboard door scared me, more than when his hand reached in to drag me out. I finally noticed he was screaming at me, about being a little freak and breaking things in his house. I tried to cry that it was an accident, but then something hard slammed into my mouth and I fell on the floor.

"Maybe I'm not beating it out of you enough, eh?" His uncle growled, bring a heavy foot down near my belly.

**"NO!"**

I screamed. I screamed like I never had before, hurting my neck. Uncle Vernon stumbled away, suddenly brighter than before, also screaming. I opened my eyes, unsure of when I'd closed them, and saw a ball of fire rushing around the living room. Everything my uncle touched caught fire, including the chair Dudley was sat on. I watched, seeing with stunned eyes, as the whole room smoked, and the flames found my auntie so she screamed too. They all screamed, and I ran. It didn't matter if they were hurt, or if they'd make it out of the fire, I wanted to get away from the smoke. It was making me cough.

I lost track of how long I curled up on the kitchen floor. It made me cold, but the smoke was going up so I stayed down. I had tried to go into the back garden, but Auntie Petunia had locked it and I didn't know where the key was. I was as far from the living room as the kitchen let me be, but I knew the fire would burn it's away to me soon. I just hoped that someone came to help sooner, like the nice men that visited the school when Mr Fisher had set the alarm off burning toast. The fire was all around the kitchen and I was choking on the smoke before I heard the back door break down.

Somebody heard my coughing and lifted my small frame into their arms. I was carried into the fresh air, seeing the moon in the sky as I was shaken in the fireman's arms. Somebody put a mask over my face and I startled. But it made it easier to breathe, so I relaxed and let the fireman leave. The whole house was on fire, worse than it seemed from the inside. The neighbours stared and whispered, providing material to gossip over for months no-doubt.

A pretty police lady, Officer Tina Time, came over to me, asking me questions about how the fire started. I knew to say I did it would get me into trouble, so I just said I didn't know. Her eyes were really pretty, they seemed to shift in colour like when the Auntie Petunia was showing off the diamonds in her earrings. They seemed to know everything, like they saw through me. It was a little scary. She seemed to be thinking, while chaos raged around her, about what to do with me.

"Would you like me to take you somewhere, Harry?" She smiled, "I know a place you might be happy, if you're okay to leave everything behind."

I didn't really have anything. I didn't have a family anymore, there was nobody else to look after me. All I had was my school, but I couldn't live there, and my strange name. School made me happy, but if I didn't live here then I might not be at the same school. Maybe there'd be more bullies, others like Dudley, and I wouldn't have Miss Clarks to help me. There wasn't anything else to make me happy, except for one thing.

"Will there be books? I like reading."

Officer Tina Time smiled, like Miss Clarks, and told me there'd be books anywhere as long as I looked. But there were children like me, without mums and dads, so nobody would make fun of me. And she thought I could make at least one really good friend. I wanted friends, the ones in my books couldn't answer me back when I wanted someone to talk to. I nodded gently, taking her hand as she led me away to her car. It seemed to shimmer, like it was there but wasn't. But when I reached for the handle, I felt the cold metal and convinced myself I was just seeing things. I settled into the back while she started the engine.

"Where are you taking me, Miss Time?"

She looked back with a smile, everything outside shifting and melting into nothing. "1934."

* * *

**(Tom's P.O.V)** -1934

Almost midnight. In just a couple of minutes will be my 8th birthday and another new year's eve. Another day of people thinking of the past year, remembering the good things, laughing over the silly things, and thinking of their new rules, their resolutions, to make the next year better. But it won't get better, it never does. People promise to be nicer, or give more to charity, or work harder. But nobody sticks to their promises, they forget them within a week. That's what I hate about people, they're fickle. Like the stupid children here, as soon as you can do something they can't, you're a freak. Friends become bullies, those you thought liked you won't even speak to you.

I didn't need friends. I stuck up for myself, learnt everything alone from my books, used my strange gifts to get what I needed. I had everything I needed, but I was still lonely. I'd never say it to anyone, no one could be trusted to know I had a weakness, but I wished there was someone I could trust with it. I had the garden snakes that got lost here, but they always had to flee before Ms Cope came with a broom. And a snake couldn't give me the comfort I craved when one of the other children's harsh whispers reached my ears. I'd grown up quicker than everyone else, I didn't need to be coddled when I scraped my knee, but the desire for someone to care never went away.

I looked up to the moon, surrounded by bright little stars trying to shine for attention in the shadow of the greater light, and wished. I hadn't been foolish enough to make a wish on my birthday since the first hadn't come true, but for some reason tonight I felt truly alone and in need. I wanted a friend, someone who wasn't scared of what I could do, someone who could understand me. I wanted to not feel so cold and alone all the time. _Please, I don't want to be alone anymore_.

The front door was so old I could hear it creak from my bedroom. Other boys stirred from their sleep, hearing the telltale sign of a newcomer. Nobody came to adopt from this hellhole, most definitely not this early in the morning. The faint light from the moon li up the clock on the far end of the room. 00:01. It was my birthday, and despite telling myself it was impossible, I linked the noises to my wish. My friend was finally coming. Someone I could trust, to save me from my loneliness.


	2. Orphanage

**(Harry's P.O.V)**

Everything is different. The streets seemed cleaner, and I realised I wasn't on Privet Drive anymore. I was on a long road, somewhere I'd never seen before, in front of two big doors. _Wool's Orphanage_. I turned to look at Miss Time, and she tried to give me an encouraging smile as she led me through the door. It creaked loudly, setting me on edge. I hoped we weren't waking up the other children, it was barely past midnight and it wasn't fair to wake them. That wasn't going to get me any friends.

There was an older lady behind a desk, peering over at me curiously. I looked down at my too-big clothes and bare feet, covered in soot and smelling of smoke. Not a good first impression to make. I heard Miss Time tell the lady I'd lost my relatives to a house fire, and there was nowhere else for me to go. The old lady turned a sad smile to me, and asked if I would follow her to have a bath and get some new clothes. When I didn't take her hand straight away, Miss Time called my name. She smiled, the knowing quirk of her lips bringing me comfort. She pulled a necklace from her pocket, looping it around my neck. Shiny crystals were lining a ring, and they changed colour in the light like her eyes. She told me if I wasn't happy here, to hold the ring and make a wish, and she'd be back to get me. It was a comfort in a strange new place, and I held it tightly as I followed the old lady. When I turned back, Miss Time was gone.

"What's your name little one?" The lady asked, startling me a little.

"Harry."

"Just Harry? Do you know your full name?"

"Harry James Potter."

It was a new name. I'd only been told that was my name last year, when I was supposed to write it on a test, but didn't have anything to write. It was Miss Clarks that told me my name, and now I won't get to see her again. I hope moving was worth it, without my stupid cousin I could make friends. All I needed was one, just one good friend.

"Well, I'm Ms Cope. I run things around here." She sighed, showing it wasn't a very relaxing job. Like when I did all the chores. "How old are you, Harry?"

"I'm 7, ma'am." Auntie Petunia always warned me to be polite. "I'll be 8 in July. My birthday is the 31st."

She nodded, making notes in her head to write down later. I thought it'd be like school, that they need these sorts of things written down in files for all the kids. She asked a few other questions, if I knew where I was born, or what my parent's names were. I'd only heard Auntie Petunia say them once, my mum's name was Lily but I couldn't remember my dad's. I explained they died when I was one, and I'd been left with my auntie and uncle and cousin. Their names were easy to remember.

"I'm sorry for your loss, you're all too young to know this loss so soon."

I wasn't sorry. I wouldn't miss them, but I didn't think Ms Cope wanted to hear that. She brought me to a little bathroom, fighting with a tap to run me a bath and left me to get in while she fetched some towels and clothes. It felt nice to get out of Dudley's clothes, and start washing the smell away. I kept Time's gift, watching it sparkle in the water before I dunked my head under. I'd never been given a gift, the Dursleys didn't like to celebrate my birthday or involve me at Christmas. No matter what the other children here were like, it couldn't be worse than living there. Ms Cope came and went with the towels, promising to fetch me after she'd filled out my paperwork.

Alone, I gave myself time to think about the accident. It was too strange, and I could explain how the fire started. There weren't any candles in the hallway, the fireplace was on and the oven hadn't started yet either. But one minute he was going to hurt me, and the next he was on fire. He was in pain, like I wished for him to be. I looked at my hands. Was this like the sponge earlier? Or like when I turned Mr Fisher's hair pink for yelling at me? Or when I saw Dudley throw a book and it flew back to hit him in the head without me touching it? Did I start the fire, like I did all the other things? The water had started to get cold, but Ms Cope hadn't come back to get me. Maybe I could try it again.

I wasn't angry, or scared now, so it took a lot of time and focus. For five minutes just stared at the water, wanting it to get warmer. I felt a heat inside, where Miss Clarks said my heart was, like a small fire getting bigger and warmer. The warmth spread everywhere, even to my toes and fingers, and my breath escaped me as saw a few bubbles rise from the water. I couldn't hold back my laughter and the water got hot, almost too hot for me to stay in. It had worked, I'd made it work again. So it was me. I'd started the fire that killed my family. But for some reason, I didn't feel bad. I felt relaxed and happy, 'content' Miss Clarks would say.

I washed myself again, making sure to wash all the bad smells away, and reached for the towel. I copied how I'd seen Auntie Petunia wrap her hair so my new clothes didn't get wet. The pants and underwear fit much better than my hand-me-downs from Dudley, and even though the t-shirt was a bit big it was still smaller than my old one. I already felt more comfortable here than I had with the Dursleys. The one thing that could have made things better came when Ms Cope returned, carrying a small book from her office. Miss Time had warned her I liked to read, and I'd settle quicker with a book to keep me company. It was called _'Murder on the Orient Express'_ by Agatha Christie. Ms Cope apologised for not have children's books on hand, since many of the other children didn't read, but I thanked her anyway. Miss Clark had given me a Christie book before, called _'The Murder of Rodger Ackroyd'_ , and that had been a fun read. It was surprising to have the narrator be the murderer without us knowing, and I hadn't figured it out by the end.

"Come along Harry, lets get you into bed. Breakfast starts at half-past 6, so you'll be up early."

That would be a lie in for me. My auntie had me up at 5 o'clock most days, wanting everything ready for her husband and son to wake up to. I was good at running on a few hours sleep.

Ms Cope turned many corners, promising to have someone in my room show me around so I wouldn't get lost. She opened the door to a large room, packed with four bunk beds and 7 half-awake boys. The only bed free was above a boy with dark hair and brown eyes, on a bunk separate from the others, further away against the wall. The faded scuff marks proved it had been pushed away from the rest, leaving me to wonder why. Ms Cope's voice changed, sounding sterner than when she spoke to me, as she told the boy, Tom, that I was staying on his top bunk and he had to be nice. He nodded, looking over to me. He didn't look happy, but he didn't look angry either. He didn't look to be feeling anything, but still, he looked at me intensely. I held my book closer. He has pretty eyes.

"One of my boys will show you to the cafeteria in the morning, I'll see you then Harry." She smiled.

I wished her goodnight as she left, leaving me to approach the bunk bed alone. The other boys wished me a goodnight, which I returned as I climbed the step ladder. It was surprisingly difficult, because my legs were so short. I noticed the boy beneath me didn't say anything, and I wondered if he ever spoke at all. I liked quiet, and considered he could be a good friend for me, if he was interested. There was a little clock on the wall, just visible in the moonlight. 00:54. I considered starting my new book, but knew I'd need the sleep if I wanted the energy to make friends. I thought for a moment about if I could sleep for longer than 4 hours, or if I'd wake up early. But that wouldn't be so bad. It would mean I could start my book in the morning and I wouldn't be late for breakfast. I'd finally get to eat in the morning, an idea that excited me, as I fell asleep and dreamed of food and new friends.


	3. Morning

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

I was awake at 5 o'clock, as I always was. But there was something out of place. I had all my usual pillows, including the three I'd taken from the ruder boys in this room to prove a point. The blanket was the same thin fleece. All the other boys were asleep, Marcus snoring loudly like always, but there was another noise. There was a new noise. Paper moving, like turning the pages of a book. And the new noise was coming from above me, from my new bunkmate. I sneaked a look into the drawer by my bed, but all my books were still there. What was he reading?

The drawer closed with the usual squeak, not disturbing my moron roommates from their sleep. But the pages stopped moving. I looked up to see his green eyes peering down at me, surprised and guilty. He apologised for waking me, as if the mere noise of pages turning could wake anyone, and asked if I wanted him to stop. It was strange, someone wanting to do something for me.

"Nobody wakes up from hearing someone read, I do it most mornings," I assured. "Though I'm curious. What are you reading?"

"The caretaker, Ms Cope. She gave me it when the lady who brought me in said I like books. Have you ever read Agatha Christie?"

I frowned. Seems the old bitch had taken a liking to the new boy, which meant he was someone else that could bully me without her trying to step in. So much for a **care** taker. He must have thought my silence was a decline because he began to climb down the step ladder. However, he was a little short for the last step and slipped, landing harshly on his side. To his credit, he didn't make a sound, even the thud was quiet. His face scrunched in pain, but he pulled himself up and smoothed his expression into a smile for me. I asked if he was okay, and he nodded.

"I'm used to a little pain. There's a reason I'm not sobbing about losing my relatives."

He seemed shocked at his own words, as shocked as I was that he'd truly said that out loud. He looked at me like I was going to lash out at him, but I thought better of even commenting on his words. He certainly looked like a child from an abusive place, small and meek. I asked why he'd climbed down, and he offered to show me his book. I nodded, watching him wiggle into bed next to me, and he described what had happened in the book so far. He liked the Poirot character from another book he'd read before coming here.

"You like to read?"

He nodded, a smile brightening his eyes to an enchanting colour, and told me they were the only thing he really had that made him happy before when he lived with his uncle. I brought up his parents, but he shrugged at me. They'd died when he was one, so he was taken to his mother's only living relatives. The book drooped in his hands, his watery eyes seeming distant as he stared into space. The other children here cried all the time, I was used to the sound of newbies crying themselves to sleep or the bullies crying when they made the mistake of picking on me. But this boy hadn't cried last night, or this morning when he fell. He didn't seem like someone who cries much.

"Sorry," he smiled, blinking away the tears. "I just sometimes wonder who my parents were, and how they would have raised me. But I wouldn't have had a reason to read if I wasn't desperate for an escape, so maybe it's for the best."

It was strange for me to see another child be so strong. The only time I thought of my parents were when I wanted to know what they were like, or if my father was still out there. The others moped about missing them, or wanting to go back so they were happy in their spoilt lives of luxury. But not this boy, he was more mature than all of them.

"What was your name again?"

He blushed, "I should have introduced myself. I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

"Tom Riddle," I smiled.

"I wouldn't Harry. He's not safe."

* * *

**(Harry's P.O.V)**

"I wouldn't Harry. He's not safe."

I hadn't noticed when a couple of the other kids had woken up, being too wrapped up in talking to Tom. He seemed nice enough and interested in reading, so I'd wanted to share my book with him. And he didn't laugh at me for falling, or say anything when I practically hinted I was happy my relatives were dead. For some reason, I felt comfortable enough to open up to him, like he would be my first friend here. So I was confused when one of the other boys spoke up against him.

"He's right," another flinched. "You should get away before you get hurt, people around him away end up hurt."

That didn't sound like the Tom I was just talking to, he didn't seem like he'd get me hurt. Again, I noticed the scuff marks on the floor, the bunk being forced away into the corner. I asked if that was linked to what they were saying and he chuckled. It was a nice noise, it felt warm.

"Fancy yourself a detective there, Poirot?"

For the first time, maybe in my whole life, I laughed. When I looked at him, he was smiling at me. It almost transformed his face from the indifferent expression before. There was more colour in his cheeks, and his eyes were almost like melted chocolate in their mocking light. I batted him with the back of my book, saying Poirot is treated with respect for his intellect, not mocked for it. He other boys gaped, looking with almost fear between Tom and me, like they expected him to hit me back. However, he only chuckled and apologised for insulting my great intellect, though every word dripped with sarcasm.

"I tried to warn the kid, whatever happens now is his fault."

Everyone in the room turned away from us. Tom eyed me, I think trying to guess if losing their attentions had upset me. I bit my lip as I tried not to smile, but patted his head in the way Miss Clarks used to pat mine to reassure me of something. I told him I'd never had friends before, and I only needed one to make me happy.

"So, why don't we be friends? Looks like you could use one." I grinned.

He chuckled again, his smile reviving his face again, "I'm not the only one with an attitude it seems. Alright then, friends."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning to keep to a schedule, so there's at least an update once a week. So expect alerts on Fridays for this story.


	4. Friends

**(Harry's P.O.V)**

Breakfast was an odd affair, familiar in some ways while shockingly different in others. The biggest difference had to be the portion. Though the food wasn't the greatest, it was amazing to finally be allowed to eat more than the crusts of Dudley's toast or the few remaining flakes of his cereal. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a full breakfast, maybe when I was a baby. But being avoided felt the same to me, eating alone as usual. But people weren't avoiding me, they avoided Tom. Like the boys in our bedroom, but all the children stayed as far from Tom as the hallways allowed. He didn't notice, maybe it had been going on for a long time and he'd learned not to care.

"Why does everyone think you're dangerous? Why do they avoid you?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," was all he said.

I wanted to push the subject since it would affect me if he really was dangerous like everyone thought. But when I asked, he seemed to shut off. His eyes lost their chocolatey glow, his smile turned forced and his voice was cold. I just sat across from him in silence, and we didn't talk for what felt like a long time before his demeanour changed again and he asked about other books I'd read. He seemed more into non-fiction, learning about things he might use one day. It wasn't something I'd had much interest in, but I'd appreciate anything he wanted to teach me. He finished his food first and waited while I finished what I could manage without feeling sick, which wasn't much. He promised to keep me fed and make me strong.

On the way back to our room, I felt the same distance from everyone as before and had to ask again. "Please tell me why everyone's avoiding you."

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

"But you can, my opinion of you won't change."

"I don't care about your opinion, Harry. I'm not talking about it."

"But if you're supposedly dangerous, then shouldn't I know what risks I'm taking around you?"

"Then don't be around me."

I looked to him in shock. He was being as cold and defensive as the last time I'd spoken to him. If he was going to be rude and defensive instead of trusting me, then I'm not going to be around him. A small part of me wanted to release a small part of my anger and shove him, but he was bigger than me and it wasn't worth the pain he could cause. So I took a steadying breath and told him to go to hell. He watched with wide eyes as I stormed away, turning corners in any order just to get away from him. The further away I got, the calmer I felt. Until I hit trouble. I didn't know where I was, and worst still, teenagers were glaring at me.

* * *

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

I shouldn't have said those things. I just shut down and deflected his questions, I didn't even think before I told him not to be around me. Maybe this was why I didn't have friends, because I pushed them away. I didn't expect to upset him over this, so when he hissed at me to go to hell and left, I didn't even know how to respond. If anybody else spoke to me that way, they'd end up in a world of pain. But for some reason, Harry was different for me. I didn't know if it was how he spoke to me, or if it was because I thought he was cute without feeling like he was my little brother, but I actually felt bad for upsetting him. If I didn't make this up to him, I'd have wasted a birthday wish and a beautiful opportunity to not feel so alone.

I followed after him, watching for any disturbance, or watching how other children shied away from certain hallways as though the devil chased them off. He hadn't spent a full day talking to me and already he couldn't make other friends anymore. I had to fix this for the both of us now, or we'd both be alone.

It must have been the tenth corner I turned that I saw him. Some random teenagers had him backed against a wall, one of them googling his necklace and trying to pull it away. I thought of all the horrible things I could do to them, how to hurt them in my unexplainable ways and steal something from them like they tried to take from Harry. But I didn't have a chance. Suddenly, the bullies went from leering over Harry to slamming against a wall, pinned by an unseen force.

"Mess with me again, and I'll burn you useless pricks alive," Harry glared.

The two looked frozen in place, stunned by their fear of a seven-year-old boy. A boy who could do things like I could, someone to understand me. Just like I wished for. Before he could run off again, I grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him along with me in the correct direction for our room. I expected a little resistance, maybe for him to still be angry with me after how I spoke to him before. How pointless our little spat was, I could have told him everything. He wouldn't have called me a freak or been afraid of me like I'd feared. He was the one to accept me, to comfort me, to care about me. He was who I was waiting for.

I made sure nobody was in our dorm before pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, and that I was terribly rude about it. The children here are scared of me like I expect those kids will be scared of you now."

He looked confused, and a little on edge. I smiled that he didn't scare me with what he could do, I'd flung people across a room by looking at them as well. I looked around for his book, channelling that strange power inside to bring the book to me. It shot across to me, letting me catch it with a huge grin. He looked amazed.

"I've only just started trying to control it, can you do that on command?" He whispered. I nodded. "Woah. This is amazing. My relatives called me a freak for being able to do this, but I'm not alone."

"I used to think I was alone until you showed up." He looked up at me, eyes shining and I couldn't stop. I planted my lips against his, quickly like I'd seen some of the girls do before going to their room for the night. "Now we don't have to be alone anymore."

Harry blushed, feeling his lips and smiling up at me. He wrapped his small arms around my shoulders and pulled me in to hug him, demanding I tell him all the little things I knew, and if I could show him the magic I could do and he could show me. It was our special gift, something we shared. We were meant to meet, meant to be together. Like the fated way couples met in my favourite romance fictions, the only fictions I read, I now had Harry. And he was mine to stay.


	5. Necklaces

**(Harry's P.O.V)**

"Do you know anything about your parents, Harry?"

We were laying in the playground, under our usual tree that the other children convinced themselves was cursed since those teenagers spread the rumour I was 'a freak like Riddle'. For a few weeks now, none of the other children spoke to me or looked at me, and Ms Cope tried to limit the time we spoke to each other. The last thing we'd discussed was getting a new book, as I'd finished _Murder on the Orient Express_ after two days. She said she'd buy a few for me to share with Tom, given none of the other children read at the level we did, including the older ones. That's what we talked about the most, the books we'd read and what they taught us. So hearing him ask about my parents surprised me.

"Only what my aunt and uncle told me about them, but I choose not to believe it. They said my dad didn't work and lived off money left by his parents, and my mum was just as lazy and used him for money," I frowned. "They died in a drunk car accident while I was in the back seat, which is where I got the scar from. But it never seemed like a car crash scar to me."

Tom nodded, brushing my fringe to the side so he could see the bolt on my forehead. I tried not to show I was embarrassed, becoming too used to people laughing at the strange shape of it. But I trusted Tom, he was my friend and he wouldn't be that mean to me. It felt relaxing to have him slowly trace the path of the scar, a comforting pulse rolling through me as he did. It was nice when Tom touched me, he never hurt. He asked if I would talk more about my relatives, wanting to know what they were like before the house fire.

I stiffened, "They weren't nice people. The things I do, it scared them. Auntie Petunia liked to ignore it, and therefore ignore me. She was so skinny, even though my uncle and cousin were like hippos, but her neck was really long so she could spy on the neighbours. She rarely lashed out, only when she saw me do something. She would pick up whatever was close to her because her arms were too skinny to hit me without a weapon.

"Uncle Vernon was huge, so he had more than enough strength to beat me. And then on nights he didn't have an excuse to punish me with a beating, he liked for me to be grateful and touch him places. So I got in trouble on purpose sometimes. My cousin saw his dad beat me and did the same. He saw his dad call me a freak and made sure I never had friends because freaks don't deserve friends. I'm glad they're gone."

"So am I Harry. I have to admit, I wouldn't have taken that, definitely not for as long as you have." Tom glared, "I wish I could use my powers to bring them pain, as they've hurt you."

"Tom, can I tell you something?" I blushed, "something really bad, and you'll still be my friend?"

"Of course."

I looked at his concerned eyes. He didn't show emotions to other people, he always somehow managed to remove any feelings from his face when the other children or adults were around. But he always let me see what he was feeling. And I could see his concern and curiosity. So I told him the truth of what happened that night, of how I'd somehow lost control and set everything on fire and kept myself unharmed in the kitchen. He listened to my story and didn't react as I admitted I didn't regret what I did.

"I know it makes me a murderer, and killing my own family is worse," I frowned. "But I don't feel guilty, I wish I'd done it sooner. I'd have met you sooner."

"I wish you'd come here sooner too, regardless of how you ended their pitiful lives," Tom smiled. He pulled me into a hug, and let me rest my head into the space of his neck. "And you'll have to teach me how to set something on fire, it might be useful."

I relaxed into my friend's arms, letting relief fill me that he wasn't angry or disgusted at what I'd done. I knew I could trust Tom with the truth. I knew I'd done something dark, but I'd seen the same darkness in him. I think he felt the same too.

He asked if he could ask one more question and I laughed. He was always so inquisitive, wanting to learn all the things he could. It's why I'm not surprised anymore that he'll choose a textbook over a novel. The crystal ring around my neck moved into the light in Tom's fingers as he asked where I got it, curiosity piqued by the otherworldly glow, and I explained the Time lady had given me it in case I wanted her to take me home.

He stiffed, fingers tightening on the small ring almost like he wanted to break them. He asked why I still wore it if I wasn't planning to leave him behind and go home. I couldn't answer why I still wore it, but I was sure that I'd want to keep it with me in case I needed to use it for an emergency or something.

"So you're still going to wear it?" He scowled, now clearly sulking.

"Yes, it's the only thing of physical value I have," I smiled. "I promise I don't want to use it. I just like my pretty necklace, okay?"

He seemed to accept my words. At least, he didn't bring up my necklace again. The winter passed cold, so cold I spent the rest of January and much of February cuddled in bed with Tom after we found out we couldn't sleep when we were shivering so hard. Spring gave us the distance of our separate bunks. Though I missed the heat of laying next to him, I didn't want to complain when he seemed just as comfortable alone. The greens of spring graced us into summer, and it felt like no time from my arrival to my 8th birthday.

I supposed my day would be the same as all the others. Breakfast was the same, I spent my time afterwards reading while Tom excused himself to find something outside, and he was back for an average lunch. Nothing changed until I'd returned to the dorm room, and Tom admitted he'd got a gift for me.

"Don't ask where I got it, or how. But I saw it and thought of you, so I got it for you."

I already knew he'd stolen it. It was one of the many ways Tom used his powers to punish the other children. He wished for something they valued, like pocket money or their favourite doll, and it would appear in his drawer. It was something he promised to teach me. I told him that as long as he wouldn't get himself into trouble over it, I'll just be happy with my gift and leave it at that. He gave me a little box, looking nervous for the first time since I'd met him.

He'd stolen me a necklace. I didn't know who from, but it wasn't a child here. The chain looked to be real silver and the pendant studded with green jewels that shined like real diamonds. Auntie Petunia's engagement ring shone like the gems on my birthday present. I searched his eyes, just watching as he stepped behind me to put it on. I was still so stunned I didn't catch my crystal necklace as it fell to the floor, replaced by Tom's gift.

"Now you don't need that. This is your pretty necklace now." He whispered, breath tickling my ear, "My gift means more than that one Harry, you should throw it away if you don't plan to leave me."

I felt stupid for thinking Tom would forget about the promise the crystal ring made to me, or at least that he'd be okay with it. Once Tom received something, the things he stole or whatever Ms Cope gave out, he always held onto it. Tom weighed the value of everything, and I was his best friend. His only friend. My presence was priceless to him. I promised him I wouldn't leave, and if he was so worried then I'd throw my necklace away for him. I wanted him to relax, seeing me drop it out the window so he'd believe me.

"Thank you," he smiled, the rare and genuine arch of his lips that made my chest feel tight. "I glad I mean as much to you as you mean to me."

I asked if he wanted to go to our tree and read in the sunlight. It seemed like a nice plan for my birthday, and he retrieved a textbook on something call biology while I went to pick a book from the ones hidden in my pillowcase. It took a moment of rummaging before I felt the cool crystals in my fingers. Tom was the best teacher, my first attempt at summoning something worked. I took a romance book he'd given me and climbed down to meet him by the door. I didn't want him to feel so sad over the other necklace, because his friendship did mean more to me. But I knew the value of things too, and that necklace was valuable. And what Tom didn't know, he couldn't feel sad about.


	6. Family

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

Each year that passed with Harry beside me was everything I had dreamed when I made my wish 3 years ago. I had someone to encourage me to better control my powers, I could teach him things while he could teach me others. He was there for me when one of the other children found a backbone long enough to say something cruel about me, and though the words lost their effects long before now it was sweet when he felt mad for me. And it made me smile when that child was struck by misfortune, they woke to be covered in spots or other unpleasant occurrences, without me doing a thing. He seemed to appreciate my thanks, though he rarely admitted to doing it, and blushed when I kissed his cheek.

I hadn't kissed his lips since finding out he was like me. I knew it was wrong, my romance stories taught me those kisses were only shared between lovers and we were too young to be lovers. But I wanted to be when he was ready. So I controlled myself, only kissing his cheeks sometimes and holding his hand when I can’t keep it in. Winter became my favourite season, it gave me the excuse to share my bed with my Harry under the excuse of staying warm. And he was always so eager, I could pretend he was using it as an excuse to cuddle up also.

Two months before we'd celebrate Harry's 11th birthday, while I was nervous over what I could give him that showed what he meant to me, we had a visitor. There was no warning or explanation as Ms Cope introduced a middle-aged looking man called Professor Dumbledore and left him in the room with us. All the other children were out playing in the spring sun, leaving my Harry and me to read in peace, and for this man to come to speak with us.

He introduced himself as the deputy headmaster of a boarding school called Hogwarts, where we'd been invited to study with other children like us. He pulled a stick from his robe pocket, drawing my attention to the strange clothes before my drawer caught fire at the flick of his wrist. My Harry gasped beside me, while I firmly refused to show how excited I was. Harry asked how the man had done it, but he didn't turn his half-moon specs away from me. He warned that stealing was prohibited at Hogwarts, but there was a special fund for orphans and others less fortunate so they could still purchase equipment and the school fees.

"So we can go? Even though we can't pay for anything?" Harry spoke again, sounding more excited than he had been before.

"Yes, Mr Potter. However, this doesn't apply to you, as I believe I have found relatives that can take you in," Dumbledore smiled. "I just need to have you follow me to a place called Gringotts, where we'll meet the Potters and have the goblins test your blood for the Potter family magic."

His words pelted me like boulders. If Harry had family, then he'd be adopted. And I'd be left here, alone again. We'd see each other at this magic school, but by then he might have other friends and not need me anymore. I wondered how I could solve this threat, like the necklace that would have taken him away when we were 8. I was his family here, but I didn't have a way to offer him everything these strangers could. They could provide for him, and he'd be happier in their house than this dank hellhole. And I wanted him to be happy.

"But, what about Tom?" Harry frowned, surprisingly taking my hand. "With all due respect, and I'm sure these people are lovely, but Tom is my family. And I'm not going anywhere without him."

I squeezed his hand, not letting my face show how grateful and special his words made me feel. I might break my rule when the old man leaves, I thought. I'd often wondered how Harry's lips would feel on my own again. But the bond between us proved obvious to the old man, and he agreed to take me and share Harry's feelings with the people waiting. This seemed to satisfy Harry, so I allowed the man to lead us out of the orphanage and into a surprisingly roomy telephone box. The street around us rose as we sank into the ground.

"This is the quickest way to the Ministry. From there, we'll floo directly to Gringotts and have everything sorted swiftly."

**(Harry's P.O.V)**

I didn't pay much attention as Professor Dumbledore lead us through the Ministry. I kept my focus on the warmth of Tom's hand in mine, so my mind didn't start questioning who we were going to meet. I didn't want to think of them as nice people, hoping to offer me the best and raise me with luxuries I could only dream about at Wool's, like chocolate. If I started thinking of how happy I could be with them, I'd be sad when I failed this test or they refused to take Tom too. Then I'd end up making him feel guilty for denying me those things.

I was confused as Tom pushed us into a little fireplace, taking a handful of something that looked like dust with a smirk. He knew I hadn't paid the least bit of attention to whatever it was Dumbledore had instructed us to do. I felt his arm coil around my waist and hold me tightly, sinking into the safety I missed most nights now winter was gone. He called out where we were going, throwing the powder to the floor as green fire surrounded us. I startled and held onto him as something pulled around inside my belly and made me feel queasy. We reappeared in a white marble hall, large and filled with strange creatures counting coins and staring at jewels.

"You must be Harry," a middle-aged woman with a warm smile called. "It's so good to meet you, I'm Cordelia and this is my husband Oliver."

"Our son, Charlus, was busy at work and couldn't come to meet you, but he's pleased to have another member of the family." Her husband beamed.

"Potentially." Dumbledore chimed in, walking to shake their hands. "I'm afraid our little Harry has a slight condition for joining the family. Or should I say, an addition."

The couple stared at the two, seeming to only now register that I hadn't released Tom's hand when they greeted me. Dumbledore explained he discovered we were close, probably due to being magical children in a muggle environment where we were only understood by each other. Because of this, we were likely inseparable and now a package deal. They shared this worried look, and as they turned to Tom, I felt him tense.

"We apologise for the shock, we hadn't expected this kind of situation. I hope we haven't made you uncomfortable," Cordelia frowned. "We're just worried, you see. We didn't expect this, and therefore didn't plan ahead."

"It's not that we mind adopting the two of you, we just didn't prepare two of everything." Her husband explained bashfully.

I reassured that we wouldn't have a problem with that. There wasn't much at the orphanage, so we tended to share everything and anything anyway. In a move that would make Tom proud, I pinched my leg through my pocket to make my eyes water and told them the children didn't understand we couldn't always control what happened around us. We were all each other had. Tom pulled my head onto his shoulder, deciding to join in my show. He knew I never cared what the others said, I was happy as long as he was with me.

"Well, I suppose it's alright then," Mrs Potter grinned. "It'll be like you're still roommates."

Dumbledore escorted a goblin over to explain that he would be taking a drop of my blood to show its reaction with a drop of Oliver's, to determine if we shared family magic. Cordelia called for another goblin, offering Tom a chance to learn if he had a magical parent. The two boys split for the duration of our tests, only to join again afterwards.

Mine had mostly gone well. The goblin said it looked like I was related to Mr Potter until our blood touched and the table exploded. It didn't mean we weren't related, but could have been a faulty test. Dumbledore recommended testing again, but Oliver seemed pleased to know we were 'probably related in some way' and that was good enough for him.

Tom had told me the goblin had drawn up a short family tree, so Tom could know about his parents. His father had been a muggle that shared his name, he explained, while his mother was a witch called Merope Gaunt. Cordelia had asked if he wanted to look for his father, since the paper said he was still alive, but tom refused. If the man was alive, then he'd chosen to leave Tom in that orphanage all these years.

"You don't need him, you have me." I smiled, "and now we have them."

He seemed to agree, letting the Potters lead us back through the fireplace. I went with Oliver first, and Tom followed with Cordelia. We had a room on the second floor, with a window seat to read on. There was a bookshelf of magic and muggle stories, drawers and a closet they promised to fill when we shopped in the coming week, and a singular bed, bigger than a double. They offered to transfigure it into two singles but I assured them it wasn't needed. They didn't question me, and Tom only smiled as we were shown the house and gardens. Everything was beautiful, and it was all accessible to the two of us. We'd be happier here, together forever.


	7. Jealousy

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

Miss Cordelia left us with a small creature she called a house-elf while they went back to fill out the orphanage paperwork. It was a tiny thing, smaller than even Harry and he was the smallest boy in the orphanage by a long shot. It had floppy ears that wiggled as it nodded happily, and wore a pillowcase-sized tunic dress. It called itself Lipsy and talked funny. It was instructed to transfigure and charm the objects in our room, adding a personal touch by changing the bedsheets green or something.

"Is Master Harry still sure he doesn't wish Lipsy to change the bed? Two twin beds will still fit and match the room."

"I'm sure, it's nicer like this. Unless Tom minds sharing with me?"

Two expectant eyes glanced at me for conformation, tinged with the fear of rejection. But I could never refuse my Harry anything. I shrugged that it would be no different from having to share a bed in winter, except it wouldn't be freezing. His lips pulled at the corners, the threat of a smile bursting through despite the efforts to stop himself doing so. I could teach my Harry many things, but covering up his emotions wasn't one of them. My sweet boy was too expressive and happy. He was my breath of fresh air.

"Is there anything else yous wish Lipsy to change, Masters?"

I looked around the room, more comfortable now there was less red and more neutral tones around the room. Honestly, who needed so much red? The curtains, the bedspread, the rugs, the beanbags, the cushions on the window seat. Anything that could have been red, was red when they entered the room. Now it wasn't so aggressive, the colours were grey and light blues and greens. The dark wood floors didn't change, Tom just asked to have all the wooden furniture match the floor. Overall, the room looked better.

"Why keep the bed like this? The real reason?" I asked after the elf popped away, seeing through his excuses.

Harry blushed, an adorable pink spreading across his cheek, "I'm more comfortable that way, but it felt awkward when we had separate beds to ask to stay with you. And I'd have been embarrassed if you said no."

No could never say no to my Harry. "I wouldn't have worried. I'm accepting it now, aren't I?"

I was just going to suggest Harry relax on the bed and read with me when the Potters returned. Mrs Potter had two pillowcases of things, handing each of us our belongings before asking if we'd like to spend the day in the house or if we were ready to go shopping for our things. I riffled through my pillowcase, relieved to see the whole contents of my drawer inside, though the pillowcase didn't look like it would fit it all. I looked up to see Harry's relieved smile on him inspecting his pillowcase, and I was glad he had everything. Harry didn't own as much as I did, or at least didn't steal as I did, so I was happy he didn't lose anything from what little he had.

"Shall we start shopping, Harry?" I smiled, wanting to explore more of the world we'd been welcomed into.

He looked at me with those beautiful green eyes and nodded. It always made me feel warm when he looked to me for guidance. I wasn't much older, but I had a superiority thing about wanting people to do what I said and Harry never failed me. He was the best friend I could hope for, he understood me as nobody could.

"Then let's go, darlings." Miss Cordelia smiled.

The couple walked us out of their home, down the cottage's garden path and outside the hedges. Oliver explained there was a magical barrier over the house and gardens, that wizards called wards, and it stopped people apparating in or out of the estate. Which is why we were headed outside the gates before Miss Cordelia took my arm. I liked her more than Oliver. There wasn't anything really wrong with the man, but he seemed too happy and full of light. There was a dark side in me, and Harry, that I thought I could see in her. His "pocket full of sunshine" attitude made me uncomfortable. And Harry was happy enough with Oliver, hearing about whatever quidditch was.

We were led through the street, the Potters treating us at any shop we passed that caught either of our interests and buying off the list as we wandered. Harry was bought a fancy broom, excited to spend an afternoon in the air with Oliver learning the rules of quidditch. Jealousy nearly overcame me, so I turned to focus on something random next to me. It was a book written in squiggly lines, but as I looked the lines took shape as words. It was fascinating.

"Are you interested in that book, Tom?" Oliver smiled. Always with the smiles, is that what Harry likes about him? "Shall we get it?"

I wanted to be selfish, and demand it so I can discover how the new magic worked. But I didn't want to owe him anything, and I honestly let my bitterness get the better of me as I shook my head. Harry caught my eye, and my frown deepened at his smile. He used to smile only for me, and now I had to share his attention with new people. I wasn't used to it yet. I walked away to find Miss Cordelia and talk about something random, to distract myself from how I was feeling.

"Let's stop shopping, for now, we have most of the equipment." She smiled, stroking the corners of my frown. "Have some lunch at home. Get you some robes and wands in a few days."

I gratefully took her offered arm and stepped into the open square we apparated into. Harry followed behind Oliver, smiling secretly with a big bag bundled in his arms and setting my blood to boil. I thought more of him than that, to turn from me for material gains.

I paced back to my room, immediately closing the book and seething on the window's reading nook. Feelings I wasn't used to swarmed me, and I hated it. I ignored the gentle knock and whoever entered the room. Until Harry stood next to me, hugging his bundle like a shield and looking at me nervously.

"What are you thinking? You look upset and I don't like it," Harry whispered.

"I had higher expectations for you, and your feelings towards me. I used to be the only person you'd talk to, the only one to see you smile. Yet someone shows up and spends money on a nice broom and god knows what you're holding, and you cling to them so easily. You leave me behind so easily. I might as well have stayed in the orphanage, at least I expect them to disappoint me. Go away."

I turned my head to gaze out the window, seeing Oliver with their brooms and a smile as he gazed at Miss Cordelia. It wasn't so easy to smile for people like me, especially when there was nothing to smile about. If it meant so much to Harry, of course, I would try. I wasn't going to roll over and allow the thing I value most of all to be taken away, he was beyond worth the effort.

"I'm sorry," a little voice choked, almost sobbed. "I'll do better."

I stared shocked as Harry dropped the bag at my feet and ran out of the room. It was a reaction I'd only seen once before, but it was worse now it was fueled by sadness and not anger. It was going to take a special apology to make it up to him. He didn't deserve my attitude, but he was the only one here I could lash out at. I had to stop doing it, and better myself for him. Curiosity got the best of me, and peaked into the bag Harry had laid in front of me. The squiggles formed the title, "A Founder's History -by Salazar Slytherin". It was the book I'd been interested in, Harry must have asked for it to give to me. The secret smile now made sense. And I felt like more of an asshole.


	8. Apologies

**(Harry's P.O.V)**

Tom's words cut me deep, and I couldn't stay in our room. I knew he'd know I was upset, probably knew that I'd kept my tears at bay just long enough to close the door behind me before I was racked with guilt. I knew how much I meant to Tom, I was the first proof he had that he wasn't a freak and the only person not to judge him for what he could do. I was his best friend, the closest thing he had to a brother and someone he could trust, but I hadn't considered how I was making him feel. It wasn't my intention to abandon him for Oliver, we were just talking and getting to know each other. He was teaching me things. But I'd left Tom to himself, I hadn't even thought to encourage him to join the conversation. And I'd made him feel lonely again.

I calmed my breathing while I cowered next to the back door. I wanted to look presentable for the Potters, so they wouldn't pry into Tom's business. He hated it when people did that. I wiped my eyes and exited into the back garden. Oliver was holding our brooms and Cordy was lounging nearby while they shared a laugh about something. I plastered a smile across my lips like it was natural and skipped over. But I guess my eyes were puffy or still red, because they could tell something was wrong as soon as they looked at me.

"Did Tom not like his book?" Oliver frowned.

"Should I go talk to him, honey?" Cordy worried.

"No, it's fine. He was just...feeling down. Wants to be alone right now, so I don't think he's in the right headspace to appreciate the company."

They shared a concerned look, before peeking up to our bedroom window. It was empty by the time I followed their gaze. Hopefully, he was reading his book. It would mean he'll forgive me sooner, knowing I was thinking of him today despite the money and gifts. It could remind him I cared.

"I wouldn't worry Harry, once he's calmed down a little he'll realise whatever he's said wasn't true." Cordy smiled, "It's how people get when they're mad or upset, and he'll apologise."

"In the meantime. Why don't I teach you more about quidditch, huh?"

It felt almost wrong to enjoy time with Oliver while I knew it was that behaviour that upset Tom in the first place, but I didn't want to upset Oliver either. He was nice. So I nodded, and let him explain how the game worked. Over the pitch, everything was done in the air on brooms. There were four types of players, who each had important roles. The Chasers had to fly and pass a ball called the Quaffle between each other, and try to shoot into one of three hoops on the other side on the pitch to score 10 points, where a Keeper had to guard and stop them scoring. The Quaffle was a weird shape, a ball with dents that made is not look like a sphere. Then there were Beaters, who had bats that were used to protect the players from Bludgers. These balls moved on their own, very fast and therefore dangerous. Getting hit by one really hurt.

"Then, there's a Seeker. Each team has one. They have to catch the Golden Snitch. A tiny thing, almost impossible to see, so catching it earnings 150 points to their team and ends the game. Some games have gone on for days waiting for someone to catch the snitch."

"That sounds tough. How impossible is it to see?" I asked, really interested in the toughest position to play.

Oliver suggested I wait until they head off to Hogwarts, as every house has a team and so I'd get to see some games for myself. I couldn't try-out for a team until I was in my second year, but I'd get to watch in the stands and support my house.

Next, Oliver taught me how to handle my broom. I had to stand beside it and call 'up'. It only took my one try and my broom shot into my waiting hand, seemingly as excited as I was. Then I copied his actions to mount my broom and kick-off. I hovered for a while, steady without letting myself rush around like I wanted to. Then I lowered myself to the floor and lifted my leg back over.

"Well done. That was perfect, even on a first attempt. I guess we've found you're calling."

Cordy laughed, clapping a little, "Truly, well done. I say we have lunch. Give Tom a little more time, he'll calm himself by dinner, I'm sure."

* * *

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

I wasn't ready to face Harry at lunch, because I hadn't discovered how to apologise appropriately. I had tried to read the book he'd gifted me, but I'd barely made it through the introduction without fully losing focus. It was bound to be interesting. Written in Parselscript, the snake language, and about the most mysterious and misjudged founder of the school we'd be attending in September. But all I could think was how broke Harry had sounded, and how the tears were shining in his eyes. Then I just started planning how to apologise. Except I didn't know how to. I had the words, but nothing else to show him how seriously sorry I was.

The door clicked gently sometime later. The sky had darkened, and Harry looked nervous as he walked passed me to the bathroom. His unjustified apology ate at my heart as I called out to him. He edged closer, tense as I pulled him to me in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I let myself get jealous, and then just stewed on it until I was angry. I had no right to talk to you like that. Please accept my apology, because I'm sorry."

His arms looped around my waist as he relaxed, "I wasn't choosing Oliver over you, I never would. What were you even thinking?"

"You're quite similar in some ways. I know you share the darkness I do, you told me about your other relatives. But you can still be so happy and smiley, like sunshine. I'm not like that, and he is. I was convinced you preferred him because of that. I was thinking I needed to be more smiley and try to find some sunshine, but I was lashing out because you were the nearest person. It's inexcusable. I want to do something for you, to show I'm sorry. Please, tell me something I can do."

I looked to my Harry with all my emotions bare. I needed him to see the desperation in my eyes because I needed to make this up to him. He shrugged and apologised. Said there wasn't anything he could ask for that he wanted when he already had everything. It wasn't a helpful answer, asking was my last plan for giving him something. I bit my lip in worry, a habit I rarely let myself give into unless I was stressed. His eyes travelled down, and he looked in wonder at my mouth.

"How about a kiss?" He blushed, looking away from nerves. "Like when you last upset me, before we were really friends, back when we first met. You haven't kissed me since, so why not kiss me now?"

I was stunned. I hadn't realised he'd thought about that as I had. I never considered he'd like the thought of kissing me as I thought about him. Maybe there was hope to my dreams of getting to be his lover, maybe being as happy with my Harry as the Potters seemed to be together.

I turned his face back to me, seeing his eyes shine with tears at my silence. I smiled, still amazed he hadn't learnt I never refused him anything, and pressed my lips to his gently. He breathed in sharply, moving his hands to hold my face and press our lips together more. It was different than the last time we'd kissed. Not because they were softer, or because the size gap was bigger so I was slouched more. It wasn't anything physical that stood out different, it was how it felt to kiss him, a gentle tingle where our skin touched. It made my chest feel tight for not having him closer and my heart beat faster. The most worrying part was the shivers down my spine making parts of my body stiff that never have been stiff before.

"That was nice," Harry smiled when they pulled apart. "Maybe, we could do that again. Without waiting a few years in between."

"SuRe," I croaked, voice breaking partway through.

He looked at me in shock, concern colouring his tone as he stroked my face. I tried to control my voice enough to comfort him. It was something to ask Miss Cordelia. She was older, more experienced. She'd know, or at least have an idea. It would be embarrassing, something I'd only talk about once I didn't have a choice, but I'd get help. I kissed Harry again, a shorter smooch this time, and walked him back out the room. We'd just clean up after dinner.


	9. Hogwarts

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

Watching the countryside rush passed, like a river of colours, I sat across from my Harry as he bounced with excitement. We were on our way to the mysterious magical boarding school, the Hogwarts we'd read so much about. Miss Cordelia had given me the book, and I shared it with my Harry to make sure he knew as much as I about what to expect when we left home.

Harry had told Miss Cordelia about my voice cracking before I could cover it up. She spoke to me privately, which I was thankful for, so she could ask me if other things were happening. I described my voice breaking, and the strange reaction my body was having under my trousers. She seemed to be trying to school her expression and suggested I spoke to her husband. I quickly refused. I trusted her more than him. She explained it was most likely just puberty and hired a healer to confirm and give me potions to make transitions easier. However, the erection sometimes gave me serious trouble. They came out of nowhere and made everything very embarrassing. Although I dealt with them as quickly as I could, remembering the sultry book I'd stolen from Ms Cole and having my Harry as a lover. Though it was not something I would share with him before he was ready. When he reached the proper age, I would ask him to be mine. Until then, I'll just treat him as such.

"What house do you want to be in?" Harry asked, drawing me back to the present. "I don't care, I just wanted to try and make sure we stay together."

 _My sweet Harry_. "Hopefully Slytherin, maybe Ravenclaw. Whichever you'd prefer, my Harry."

He flushed that pretty pink that was quickly becoming my favourite colour with him, and agreed to Slytherin. It made the most sense, he said, because of the book he'd bought me. I liked that he could read the squiggles that the Potters stared at without comprehension. The wandmaker gave us wands that shared a core, like we were connected on more than just a physical level. I just wished he saw it as I did.

"Did I hear you boys wanted to join Slytherin?"

We turned to the compartment door, where there was a stranger in the doorway. He looked our age, standing proud like he thought he was royalty. It agitated me, but I didn't show it. He kept talking or more accurately bragging that his family has been in Slytherin for centuries, so he was like a prince within the house. He suggested if we were lucky enough to be a part of his house, we should stick with him. He asked my name, and was immediately disinterested in the answer. Miss Cordelia had warned me there would be pureblood supremacists here, and without a posh pureblood last name I'd be lower than dirt.

"And you are?" He asked, looking down his nose at Harry.

"Harry Potter."

He smiled, a shine in his eyes that I distinctly didn't like," that's more like it."

My Harry turned his confused eyes to me, and I tried to keep my anger inside. It wasn't him that sparked my bad mood and he'd think it was. The blonde sat beside him and introduced himself as Abraxas Malfoy. He offered his hand, which my Harry shook as his eyes flicked to mine. The bastard pinched my Harry's chin in between his finger and thumb to pull his eyes back to meet his gaze.

"Your eyes are very green, breathtakingly so." He winked.

Harry blushed! The beautiful pink overcame his cheeks as it should only do for me, and the smug bastard stood and grinned to me before leaving us alone. It upset me that this boy I'd never met got so under my skin, and dared to make such a comment to my Harry. He looked to me, biting his lip like he did whenever he was thinking very hard about something. Then he stood up to take the seat next to me.

"Do you think my eyes are pretty too, Tom?"

I brushed the hair from his face, looking at the hopeful glint in his eyes. It calmed my angry fire immediately. He was still my sweet Harry. I stroked his cheeks, and planted a kiss between his brows.

"My beautiful, sweet Harry. Your eyes are beyond breathtaking, and that foolish blonde prat doesn't know how to appreciate how beautiful you are."

He blushed again, his eyes closing as he brought his lips to mine, and I almost called Abraxas back to witness that Harry was mine. His breathtaking eyes were mine, his adorable pink blush was mine, and his saintly lips were mine. Always and forever.

* * *

**(Harry's P.O.V)**

I avoided Abraxas when we left the train, made sure I pulled Tom to a different boat and stayed by my Tom's side when we waited in the entrance hall. He did wave once or twice, but I didn't wave back. He was making Tom jealous, and I didn't like it. So I stood by his side as we walked in.

"Wait for me, I'll meet you at the Slytherin table," he grinned.

The children were called alphabetically and sorted by the ragged hat on the stool. When it reached 'M', Malfoy rose and was seated to be sorted. As he predicted, he was in Slytherin. When my name was called, I also approached the stool to be sorted.

"Slytherin!"

I grinned to Tom as I rushed the table at the end, slowing when Abraxas shifted to make room for me. But there was still space next to someone on the other side, so I smiled and walked past him. When my Tom approached, he came to my side and Abraxas raised an amused brow. He mentioned something to Tom about not fighting battles it is clear he'd lose, but warned he'd pick up the slack if Tom dared to drop it.

"Never," Tom smirked.

The sudden change of Tom's attitude to the other boy rattled me, but when he turned his smile to me I relaxed. When he shared those wonderful smiles with me, I could tell myself my dreams could come true. My Tom and I could grow up and be so madly in love that we'd do anything for one another. I think it was love that I felt for Tom, at least the sweet childhood equivalent. And I hoped he felt something similar, he certainly got jealous as though he did.

"We'll eat, and then a prefect will show us to the dungeons, where our dorms are." Abraxas explained, "we'll have lessons tomorrow, so it's best to sleep early. But introduce yourself to your dormmates first. They're just about the only family we have here."

His words were punctuated by the glares of other houses, and I squirmed closer to Tom. I felt a hand squeeze my thigh, and my stress melted away. There would be more stress later, and in the morning, but for now it was just a peaceful dinner with my Tom and housemates. Maybe we'd make more friends here, with those who didn't think us freaks.


	10. Dormmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sticking to a schedule anymore, if the long wait wasn't the biggest clue. I'm now just writing whenever I get the motivation, for this and my other stories, so I don't feel pressured to update and write rushed drivel. Hopefully, this move will mean my content stays good or ideally improves. Thanks for the patience, this story will be finished, no matter how long it takes.

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

The common room wasn't how I imagined. Hearing the Slytherin's private area was in the dungeons, underneath the Black Lake, I'd assumed it would be cold and dark. It was a popular opinion among the public that Slytherin's held a chill to them that would be nurtured in a similarly chilly place. But the common room was the opposite. The walls were grey stone, with tapestry and furniture in accenting slivers and greens. There was a huge fireplace emitting a warm glow that kept everything dim but still well-lit, as well as fighting off the cold.

"Boys, head up the staircase to the right for your dorms. Girls, your dorms are on the left," the prefect instructed. "Treat your dormmates and the rest of your house like your family. Not many in the other houses feel inclined to treat us as such, so this is the best option available."

His words of warning carried weight among the other first years, and I caught the solemn nods of older students. But this meant nothing to me. I wasn't coming from a warm home and leaving a treasured family, I'd brought my family with me. As long as Harry remained beside me, I had all I needed. Allies and connections were a reason to socialise, but I didn't care enough to try and make a family away from home.

"Can we go straight to the rooms? I want to make sure we're not separated." My Harry frowned.

Nodding, I took his wrist and pulled him to the right. There'd be five names on every door, but the history book said they'd be alphabetical. So locating 'Potter' was easier than reading every name. My Harry was sharing his room with three other boys. Avery, Lestrange and Malfoy. With relief, I spotted my name etched underneath his, providing me with the peace of mind to keep Abraxas away from him. While the pressure was off that the useless blonde wouldn't persist with the annoying flirting, the mere idea of him wanting to 'pick up the slack' kept me on edge. He couldn't be trusted.

"Do you think Cordy and Oliver had a hand in keeping us together?" My sweet snake smiled.

"If they did, we must be sure to thank them."

There was a small heater in the middle of the large room, with five four-poster beds circling it. With a sense of unease, I was reminded of the room we'd shared with other boys at the orphanage. It would be important to instil fear or unease in our roommates to maintain some distance from them. Respect would be preferable, building allies meant strength and support, but it wasn't likely they'd respect anyone with a muggle last name. Perhaps I should seek out a snake to hide under the bedsheets, see how well the other boys fit into the house of the snake.

Harry walked to his trunk, rummaging through his things. Relief rushed through his breath and my chest tightened. He'd been given so little in life that everything held such importance to him that he needed to keep it. I hoped I was perhaps the most precious to him. He looked around pointing out my trunk at the end of the bed opposite his. That wouldn't do. I took my wand from the pocket in my robes, using the charm I'd read about on the train and levitated my things to the bed next to his, swapping with whoever owned the other trunk. I caught Harry's smile before he turned away.

We'd just changed into a set of new pyjamas Miss Cordelia packed for us when the door opened. Abraxas waltzed in, flanked by two other boys. A shorter boy, Harry's size almost, with styled black hair and hazel eyes that shifted from Harry to me nervously. The other was taller and stockier, towering the others like he could do some serious damage if instructed. Malfoy had picked up a bodyguard it seemed.

"Boys, meet Tom Riddle and Harry Potter," Abraxas smiled, eyes flicking to Harry briefly. "My little friend here is Gemini Lestrange, not as imposing as the other, but his intellect is something to boast of. And the mountain is Markus Avery. Both purebloods, like myself."

The two boys eyed Harry with interest. Potters didn't become Slytherins, he was a curiosity to them that they wanted to investigate and use for there own advantage. Not that they'd get close enough with me around. Almost like they heard the thought, I became their focus. Avery didn't even try to hide his disgust at having a Riddle in their dorm because of course, I had to be muggle-born to them. Lestrange didn't look so disgusted, but he didn't look comfortable or friendly. Abraxas didn't shift his attention from Harry, smiling at him with a solid flirty edge.

"Pleasure, I'm sure," I drawled, earning an even deeper glare from Avery. "Would you like to read with me, Harry?"

His green eyes glowed with a smile as he nodded. I retrieved the Slytherin book from the top of my trunk and headed to his bed. We settled against the headboard together as I opened to the page I'd stopped on the night before. He rested his head on my shoulder to get a better view and I wanted so desperately to smirk at Abraxas. He was right about fighting for Harry's affection being a losing battle.

"I've seen squiggles like that before," Gemini gaped. "On an old Slytherin heirloom in your house, Abraxas."

The blonde stared at the front of the book, squinting to recognise the words that my Harry and I could read so clearly. He must have recognised one or two because he reached out to take it from my hands. Before his fingers touched the paper, a hand lashed out to slap his away.

"I bought that for him, so don't think you can just take it." Harry glared.

Abraxas sneered at Harry, an almost welcome change from the flirty smirking. He asked what I was reading and I divulged that it was a history book written by our house's founder. An interesting read, that Harry and I were sharing because he understood the words too. It was a topic that confused my little love. When he read the words, they looked like messy English, so he just thought he was reading a normal book. But neither Oliver nor Miss Cordelia could read our book, and it made him uncomfortable for some reason. I supposed it was because he hated the attention.

"That book is written in Parslescript, the written form of the snake language. You shouldn't be able to understand it, it's a magic language only Parseltongues can understand."

"Then I guess we're parseltongue or whatever because we've been reading it together for weeks. Now bugger off, cos it's not yours." Harry frowned.

Lestrange stepped around Abraxas, "He's sorry, it's just a shock. The last Parseltounges were all direct descendants from Salazar Slytherin himself, and they disappeared a few years ago. For a muggle-born and a Potter to share in his gift, it's almost impossible."

I didn't even try to contain the self-satisfied smirk as I informed him the Potters had me tested in Gringotts. I was a half-blood, my mother had been a pureblood and my father was a muggle. I knew my mother had died during childbirth because of how starved she'd been when she arrived at the orphanage, not that they needed to know that. Malfoy seemed interested in finding my father in the hopes of learning about my mother.

"If she really was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, you could be his last remaining heir." The boy grinned, "I can only imagine the wealth of power and knowledge in the Slytherin family vaults. And that means you'd own all the properties and possessions. There isn't much, the newest branch of the family wasted their money on extravagant parties. You might have another family too, like an uncle or-."

"Harry is my family," I interrupted, earning a surprised look from all angles, including Harry. "My family matters are nothing to do with you, and I'd appreciate it if you respected that boundary without me having to hurt you."

Lestrange and Malfoy moved away, Avery standing his ground to apologise for Abraxas' overexcitement. So that's why he needed them around, to keep apologising when he puts his foot in his mouth. "My older brother told me that Slytherin runs under a hierarchy of the top students in each year. That means the richest and most influential, like Abraxas. Or the powerful smart ones, like Gemini. For you to be a descendant of Slytherin gives you a say in how the first years work, if you tell people about it."

"He doesn't have to," Malfoy corrected. "The three of us will run the first years, nobody will speak against me and the older students will accept it ones I give them our names. We can keep the parseltongue a secret, at least for now."

I agreed but looked at Harry. They didn't mention getting him involved. He'd be upset if I let him get left out for 'new friends'. But he was smiling at me.

"I'm not a leader, Tom. You'll do a better job. I can stay with Avery when you three go off to meetings or whatever. Right?"

The mountainous boy smiled, not in Abraxas' flirty way but like he was happy he wasn't getting completely left behind. My sweet snake was thoughtful to everyone. He'd made a point that I'd be better at being in charge, and while the other boys agreed that I was the one in charge I'd be happy to join the leadership team in my house. Gemini looked excited to have me in charge, Abraxas begrudgingly agreed. Looked like I was getting everything I wanted thanks to that book. A book Harry had given me. My loving good-luck charm.


	11. Betting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _  
> **Pareltongue**  
>  _

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

I had expected more of my role in our house. There were weekly meetings, all the years were invited and I expected deep discussions or voting for changes. I thought the other first years would have something to say about how things were run and changes we should make. Hell, Malfoy set up a time every two weeks for every first-year to talk with us about things they wanted to change or things they needed to have confronted.

But after the third meeting we came back from without anything being done for us, they just didn't seem to care anymore. Nothing was actually changing. The oldest three years didn't listen to anyone, and they were fine having life stay as it was. They were rich purebloods, already set up with places to work by their fathers so their education didn't really matter and that's all Hogwarts was to them. It was infuriating.

"Well, what do you want to change?" Harry asked one night they were alone in the dorms. "What do you want from being at school? And your future?"

"I want the world, sweet Harry. You know I've always been terribly ambitious. This school is our home away from home, we should be comfortable and happy here. The older years are almost leaving, they don't care what happens. The younger years should be heard, and the older years there to help mediate and get what we want. Not there to shoot our ideas down because it's too much hassle."

"Get Abraxas to help you. And the second to fifth years to agree with you, then you'll have a majority against the eldest years. Fifth-year is your OWLs, that's a lot of stress and if something needs changing then they need to trust something will happen."

"That's a very good point," I smile, kissing to top of his head. We were cuddled on my bed, not reading for once, just talking. " And I the rest of this world needs to change too, I think. Lower the boundary, at least when it comes to magical children. Have them educated earlier, a magic primary school with funds like Hogwarts, so they know enough about wizards and they'll learn they aren't freaks."

My Harry told me he'd asked Avery about that, why most purebloods hated muggle-borns so much. He said the snootier purebloods wouldn't change their minds, because it was just the purity of blood that upset them so much. But most pureblood's were mad at the attitude of muggle-borns, how they came into the world without knowledge and demanded the world be changed to accommodate what they knew and were comfortable with. But if a wizard tried to do that, then they'd be locked up for breaking the statute of secrecy.

"So this primary school can teach them wizard traditions, so they fit in better."

 _My sweet, smart boy_. I marvelled at my little love, still at least a foot smaller than me. He may have said he wasn't a leader when the year began, but he was showing it was a possibility for him. At least while I was by his side.

"We can change it, my Harry. We'll make this world better, together."

The sound of mocking laughter drew my eyes away from my little light and to the smirking pureblood in the doorway. Avery and Lestrange stood behind him, shifting awkwardly the way they did when the blonde picked on anyone.

"Make the world a better place by integrating mudbloods and people raised by muggles? Oh please, that helps no one. There's a reason we think they have filthy blood, it's because they're weak and those raised by muggles are useless. You're 'big plan' is stupid."

Harry tensed next to me, his eyes storming as he fought against my hold to stand up. Harry remarked that out of the five of us, Malfoy considered himself the purest in blood but was the worst in classes.

"How dare you! You're only a half-blood, you can't talk to me like that," Abraxas yelled.

"He can talk to you however he likes, _**asshole**_ _._ " I hissed, standing to block Harry from his view.

The hiss of parseltongue rolled across the room, the warmth in the air draining. Malfoy shivered in front of me, looking behind him to Gemini, who stepped ahead to save the situation. Lestrange seemed okay, he just focused on work. And Avery seemed on good terms with Harry, so he was staying out of this.

"Don't try to cover this, Lestrange. It's his mistake to cover for." The mousy boy stepped back, and I turned back to Malfoy. "Let's make a bet, to put your opinions where the facts are. I'm muggle raised remember, and only a half-blood. And the end of the year exams are next week. If Gemini can score higher than me in one subject, since it wouldn't be fair to ask you, then I'll never speak out against you or mention muggle-born right to you again. But if he can't, then you'll stop being a bigot and help me with my plans for the future."

"Just the one subject?" He smirked, "I accept. Be prepared to lose."

* * *

**(Harry's P.O.V)**

He didn't lose. Tom got the highest scores in our year, in all of his subjects. Gemini was close in places, only a mark to two behind in so many it seemed so unfair, but Tom still did better. A lot better than me, but I was in the top quarter of first years, so he was proud of me anyway.

"You should let me tutor you next year if you want to do better, I'll teach you anything you want to know."

I blushed like I always did when Tom did something sweet for me. "You should focus on your studies. You don't need to worry about me.

Tom smiled, fingers brushing my cheek. "I'll always worry about you, at least if I tutor you I'll know I'm helping you. Now, treat me for being the smartest boy you know."

I giggled as he brought our lips together, reaching on my tiptoes to quicken the movement. It was the same sweet kiss we always gave each other, barely a second of touch, but long enough to make my face warm. I looked forward to the days when we're older and the kisses get longer.

"You might want to add that to your little plan."

Malfoy was standing to the doorway of the dorm. Why was he always standing in the doorway, was he just watching and waiting for a dramatic moment? It seemed like something the pompous bully would do.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Tom scowled.

"You won the bet, fair and square. You won my help, and I'm giving it to you. Muggles aren't accepting of gays, wizards are no different. So if you want your little love in this new world, you have to add it to the list."

He looked a little uncomfortable, turning away while Markus and Gemini smirked behind him. Lestrange stepped forward, agreeing to help Tom based on his test scores along. His plans were a done deal if he had brains to go with his passion. Then eyes flickered to Markus.

"I'm not going to lie, I don't care either way and I don't really know you. But I consider Harry a friend, so if he stands with you I will too."

I moved away from Tom to hug him, and Markus laughed that I'd make my boyfriend jealous if I did things like that. I joined in the laughter, moving back to my best friend's side while he gave Avery a calculating look. His arm wormed around my waist again while he lead us to the trunks.

"I'll write to you boys letter over summer about my ideas and plans."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My birthday was yesterday, so this is my gift to you guys. FINALLY A GODDAMN UPDATE! Hope it's okay, and everyone is doing okay.


	12. Distance

**(Tom's P.O.V) -Fourth-year**

I hate it. He's ignoring me and I hate it.

I haven't paid as much attention to him over the years, I know that. I've been focusing on my plans for the future. Gemini gave valuable inputs, like his family's collection of Dark Tomes, and Abraxas was helpful, we were also getting closer as friends now he wasn't always flirting with Harry. His family connections and money were useful as well. His father told him how to manipulate the ministry and he shared that knowledge with me. In fact, after getting the top scores in my year for the third year running, the Malfoy's asked me to have dinner with them during the summer. Maybe that was why Harry was upset with me, I didn't ask to bring him. I wanted to avoid the questions about how close we were. The world wasn't ready to accept love like ours, and the Malfoys were especially traditional.

Cordelia and Oliver knew, we lived them and still didn't want separate beds or like spending time without each other. They seemed okay with it, since they didn't look uncomfortable around us, but I imagine they feel at ease knowing it isn't a sexual attraction. Though I suppose this summer I wasn't around Harry as much, I was planning with the boys in letters or meeting them in Diagon Alley. That might be why he was upset with me, I didn't bring him out then either, I left him to study so he could bring his grades up. That's a good reason for him to be distant now.

But the planning was important. We were so close to having everything shaped. We'd fixed the system in Slytherin, earning the respect of the students that I can recruit later on. The perfect way was to fight on both sides. Have handsome, intelligent, trustworthy Tom Riddle go through the ministry and try to change things politically, while a group of terrorists act out and change the world by force. Not how Grindlewald handled things, we'd be more controlled with raids and killing, so we weren't entirely the bad guys. We could paint ourselves as those desperate for a better world, and willing to fight for change. And accepting homosexuality was part of that plan, our future happiness was part of that plan.

"Maybe he has a girlfriend and he doesn't want to tell you about it," Abraxas smirked. "He's hot, and you know it. Girls want him. And if you aren't giving him attention, I'm sure he's getting it somewhere."

"He wouldn't. You know how close we are."

"Were. You spent summer with me and Gem, and didn't even invite Harry here."

This made Lestrange join the conversation, "I'm concerned. Where is Harry? He's never around anymore."

"He's with his girlfriend," Abraxas laughed at my uncomfortable expression.

"Stop being mean," Gemini scolded. "I'll bet he's with Avery. Tom, if you're concerned, just ask Harry."

"Or snoop through his things. See if you find love letters or lipstick-stained clothes or something," Abraxas suggested.

And that's why I was in our dorm room. I was looking through his trunk, trying not to mess anything up so he wouldn't find out. It was just regular clothes, no lipstick-stains, and all the paper was notes or unused. The little drawer by his bedside wasn't anymore incriminating.

"Nothing! There has to be something."

As my frustration sparked, almost controlling me, I looked to his bed. He always used to keep his things in his pillowcase. I buried my hand into the first one, rummaging as if my life depended on it, ignoring the sound of an opening door. I just got angrier when I found nothing there. I threw it with all my might across the room, reaching for my last hope. There was a lump in the second pillow, and I clawed into the case to pull out whatever caused it. A crystal ring on a necklace, that shimmered like no diamond I'd seen. My blood went cold.

"Wanna explain what you're doing, Tom?"

I turned to Harry, his arms crossed and a frown on his face. My eyes narrowed, "I'd much rather ask why you still have this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's shorter and there's a big time-jump, but I want to get to the juicy bits and nothing in between is important. It's short cos I have the idea in my head it would have been too long with the next bit, so the next bit is separate. Hope you enjoyed it!


	13. Arguments

**(Harry's P.O.V)**

I'd walked into him raiding through one of my pillows, searching like a madman for something and getting frustrated. His breathing was heavy, his hair a mess from his fingers dragging through it and his eyes scrunched like he was in pain. I couldn't even ask want he was doing as he tossed the pillow across the room, or reached for the other one. I found my voice when he found my ring necklace. But his frustration worsened, and he turned those pained eyes to me.

"You see, I remember this necklace, Harry. I vividly remember telling you to throw it out the window if you didn't plan to leave me, and I watched you do it. So how is it in my hand, right now?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair wearily. "You taught me how to summon things to my pillowcase."

"And you used that against me. To hide this from me, betray my trust and leave me when you got bored." He screamed, far angrier than I'd ever seen him. "That's why you're distant and ignoring me, you want to leave. Want to use your hidden safety net to go back to wherever you came from. Well, no way in hell am I going to just let you go."

"Will you calm down? It's nothing like that. Let me explain." I pleaded. "We were orphans then, not a penny to our name and no real education. We'd have been forced out on our asses when we turned 18 and we would have died without money. It was a safety net for that, a pretty necklace to sell to save our lives."

I walked around the heater centred in our room, the obstacle separating us, and continued trying to reason with him. I explained that I was always worried the Potters might not keep us around after 18 either, four years in their care and we still hadn't met their son Charlus. And then Markus told me they were planning to group dark wizards to take a militant approach at changing the world, and they had to use their own money for that. I'd asked him how much he thought it would be worth because growing up with money would give him a better idea. He told me the necklace was actually magic, that the crystals were actually time crystals and they were really rare. So it was worth more than I'd imagined.

"Besides," I smiled up at him. "It's a reminder of the best day of my life. The day my shitty relative died and I was brought to you. Why wouldn't I want to keep it when it means that much to me?"

He looked down, glaring at the glimmering stones in his hands. He closed his eyes and held it out to me, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been going through your things in the first place. Abraxas got into my head about you having a girlfriend behind my back and I went a little off the deep end. It made sense to explain why you've been distant."

He reached out a hand to stroke my cheek, but I turned away and stepped back. "I've been distant? You think that I'm the one that's been distant?"

Stunned by my outburst, he lowered his hand. He seemed genuinely confused that his words had upset me and asked if he'd misunderstood me never being around anymore, if it wasn't my intention to avoid spending time with him. And that just made me more livid.

"Don't you dare accuse me of not spending time with you! Every morning at breakfast, I start a conversation with you, every day because I know that's the only time we're ever going to speak to each other. The rest of the time you're focusing on studying or running off and scheming with Malfoy and Lestrange, you never even bother to include me. I asked if you'd help me with my Potions homework last week, not because I need it but because I actually wanted to spend time with you, and you told me I'd get a good enough grade doing it by myself. And from what I've heard from Markus, you haven't included me in your scheming either, I'm just a part of the end result by marrying you."

He opened his mouth, maybe to defend himself, but I cut him off. I was on a roll, and all my stress was flowing from me too freely. "When was the last time we read together like we used to? Or when did you last kiss me? No kissing goodnight, or goodbye before you go off and spend the day with people you obviously see more benefit in being around than me. I mean, you told me once that we'd be more serious with each other once I caught up with you, once I went through puberty and understood it all better. Well, I started during summer, Cordy had the healer come out and talk to me. But you haven't noticed, you haven't cared. All you care about anymore is your stupid plans."

I took a moment to breathe, feeling the tears on my face and the emotions I've been holding back crash through me. I looked to his stunned face, unable to hold in the laugh at his speechlessness. He was always composed, always had the right thing to say to smooth over a situation or schmooze an important figure, and now he had nothing to say. He clearly had never thought of it that way. The rift in our relationship was me being distant, not him focusing on everything except me. Nothing could be his fault anymore.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't think... I wasn't stopping to consider..." He frowned, looking close to tears himself. "I didn't add you to my plans because I wasn't thinking of planning how you should live, whatever you chose to do for work or in terms of my plans isn't something I should decide for you. But not telling you, having you hear from Avery, I understand how it looked. I should have explained. And I can't even excuse the rest of it, I didn't even consider how you were feeling. I put my leadership in Slytherin and ideals for our future before you. I just assumed you'd be okay because you know how much I love you and-"

"Do I?"

My interruption floored him, and he just looked at me confused, "I don't understand, Harry. If it's wanting you to wait until puberty, it's because I wanted you to understand and want me back like that before we got serious. After telling me how your uncle-"

"It's not about that! And again, calling me Harry. You always used to say 'my Harry', not just to me but to everyone. I don't remember the last time you said it. You never kiss me or spend time with me, you don't call me pet names anymore. I don't remember the last time I felt affection from you. You had no one at Wool's before me, and even when we started living with the Potters I held all your attention. Then we come here, and you make other friends or however you think of Malfoy and Gemini, and I become a background character to you. As soon as you have other people respecting you and wanting to be around you, you just stopped thinking about me. I feel replaced, not loved. How can I feel like you love me when you don't show me?"

A throat cleared behind us, where our dormmates stood awkwardly in the doorway. Abraxas seemed curious, with Gemini looking anywhere but at us, and Markus frowning at me sympathetically. He knew I felt like this, it was just the two of us after the other three went off together. He was more my friend these days than Tom, and while I was happy to have him it hurt that Tom wasn't the one comforting me. An embarrassed blush covered my face as Malfoy raised a brow. The room suddenly seemed too crowded for me to take. So I ran away. I apologised for causing a scene in front of them, tried to throw Mark a reassuring smile through the tears and left the room. I left the dormitory as a whole, rushing across the common room to hide in the one place they couldn't get to me. I'd spend the night to myself, and deal with them tomorrow. It was Saturday, so I wouldn't really have a choice, there were no classes to hide behind.


	14. Deadlock

**(Tom's POV)**

I couldn't say a word as Harry ran away. I was too upset with myself, too ashamed to move or try and stop him. I had made all the wrong assumptions and this was the consequence. I thought after all our time together he'd know how deeply I cared for him, that I wouldn't need to always be there or repeatedly tell him I loved him. But I never told him I loved him anymore, he was only ever 'my Harry' in my head. I stopped kissing him, or spending time with him. I remember him asking for help with that Potions essay, how he looked up me from the dorm room floor like he needed me. For an intelligent boy, I was so stupid when it came to feelings and Harry. I just thought he was capable of doing it himself and I wanted to talk to some other fourth-years about changes.

"Aren't you going after him," Gemini frowned, "or do you want to give him space to calm down?"

Avery shook his head, "I know Harry better, space isn't what he needs. More space means time to think to himself and convince himself his doubts are true."

I nodded, pushing passed Abraxas' smug smirk to leave the room. Harry could only go to the common room, curfew was over. But I couldn't see him. I stopped myself from panicking before I had to and reached for the nearest group of students. Three girls were sat at the table, two playing chess and one writing in a notebook. I asked if they'd seen my Harry, but none of them answered me, almost like they were ignoring me. I raised my voice slightly and asked again, but the blonde girl just raised an eyebrow at me before focusing back on her book.

"They won't answer you."

I turned to see a third-year boy, fiddling nervously with his fingers. He explained they'd seen Harry run out of the common room, and he looked like he was crying.

"We're in a study group. Me and those girls, Harry helps us." He frowned, "we keep him company when you're deciding he's not good enough to spend time with. And we know you're the one who's made him cry. So they're ignoring you."

"And you're not?" I drawled, not caring in the slightest that a group of little girls didn't want to talk to me.

He explained that he was only talking to me to tell me what happened because I wouldn't find Harry if he didn't want to be found. He could disappear sometimes and not be seen again for hours, but I needed to wait for him to come back and make this right.

"Harry's a sweet guy, he deserves someone who's actually nice to him." He scowled at my raised eyebrow, "I know, we all do. Anyone with half a brain could see how much he loves you just by looking at him. And you don't treat him like you should. It's why they won't talk to you, any of those girls would treat him nicer, but he's too caught up on you."

My eyes flicked back to the table of girls, seeing the jealousy in their eyes as they tried to focus on their tasks and not this boy's words. I asked his name, and he told me he was Orion Black. A pureblood name, ancient and noble they say. My eye softened on him. He didn't talk like he was one of my Harry's romantic admirers. I apologised for being selfish with my Harry, I'd thought it was something I was getting away with because he'd know his love was reciprocated. But I was wrong, and I hurt him.

"You may be right that I don't deserve someone so sweet, but I'm too selfish. As long as he wants me, I'm his and he is mine," I promised. "Do you have any idea where I could find him? I don't want him alone when he's so upset."

Black shook his head. I just had to wait for him to come back. I thanked him for his help and the girls for keeping their eye on him, then retreated upstairs to think. He had to return at some point tonight, he couldn't hide forever. And I needed to make sure he spoke to me before he just retired to bed. Best idea I had was to sit on his bed, then when he came back to sleep I'd be in his way. Unavoidable. We needed to talk about this before he had any other crazy thoughts.

"Do you remember what I said to you back in our first year, about picking up the slack if you dropped it?"

I looked up to Abraxas' smug face, the other two returning Harry's things to the right places. The blonde walked up to me, shoulders squared, the same picture of baseless arrogance he'd displayed when I'd first met him. Gemini turned to glare at him, Avery just shook his head in distaste. I walked directly passed the boy. He was no threat to me, nobody really was. Harry was mine, he always had been. I mentored him, cared for him and loved him for years. He's admitted how often he thinks of me. His heart, mind and soul belong to me. And when he's forgiven me, I'll lay my claim to his body.

"His mentees downstairs warned me I won't find him if he doesn't want to be found, so I'm waiting for him." I announced, "you can all go to sleep. I'll stay up and read on his bed, so he can't avoid me."

My loyal friends nodded, though Avery couldn't look at me. Abraxas scoffed something about wasting my breath as he'd have Harry seduced by breakfast. My wand was pointed his way, the stinging hex flying across the room to his stunned face before he knew what was happening. He cried out in pain, cowering towards his bed while I lowered my wand and filled my voice with disdain.

"Talk of my Harry like he's as easy as the whores you attract again and I'll use a worse hex," I glared. "Harry is mine, he always was and always will be. And I've had enough of your comments about him. Even think of him in a way I'd think inappropriate and I'll make sure your face stays that swollen and sore."

Malfoy backed away, turned to Gemini with pleaded eyes to be healed. My hexes were always strong enough to really hurt. I nodded to Gemini, allowing him to help his friend. It wouldn't do to have my follower lose one of the assets I can use to my advantage. Even those of strong wills crumbled for a beauty. I instructed them to sleep after their affairs were in order for tomorrow. And after the last bedcurtain closed, I settle against Harry's pillow and closed my eyes. His smell was strong on the bedding around me, soothing me in a way I hadn't noticed his scent did for me. I'd fix this. There was no alternative.

* * *

**(Harry's POV)**

I didn't go back. I was too embarrassed that our roommates had seen us fight like that. And they'd seen me cry which made it worse to me. So I stayed out for the night and slept in my secret place. It was early morning before I could bring myself to return to the common room. But I knew they'd all be asleep.

I hoped to hide in bed, with my curtains drawn and pretending I was asleep until I was ready to face the day. I didn't think Tom would be asleep in my goddamn bed cuddled against my pillow. And I had to laugh, loud enough to startle him awake, because it was such a him thing to do. He fell asleep in bed so I had to see him before going to sleep, I wasn't able to avoid him if I came back.

"Harry, what time is it?" He rubbed his eyes.

"You slept on my bed, seriously?" I smiled, "that desperate to spend time with me now?"

"I didn't mean to fall asleep, your smell was just comforting. I didn't realise how long it's been since I had you this close. I'm so sorry. Please tell me how to fix this."

"I don't know. Maybe we shouldn't fix it, you know?" I shrank away as his eyes widened. "I mean, you're happy right? You have all your planning and ambition, and not so much spending time with me. I get it, I know how much the future means to you. I just think if I stop mellowing in how much I love you, I can move on to something else too. Then we're both in a happy place, you know? Childhood sweethearts never actually last, right?"

He closed his eyes, telling me to take everything I just said back. All I could tell him was that breakups were supposed to be painful but sometimes for the best. I'd spend the whole night thinking about it, and crying to myself but deciding it was best. Tom wouldn't be happy if I wasn't happy, and this was the way both of us would be happy.

"I'm begging you, please stop talking," he growled. "if you thought for even a second that being without you is me being happy then you don't know me as well as you think."

"I don't get it, you have been without me. You don't have me, you realise that right? You're not my boyfriend, we aren't dating or even having sex. You have no real claim on me, and you've been too busy with Malfoy to notice."

"Let's talk downstairs, I don't want them waking to us yelling on a weekend."

I didn't have a chance to respond, he just stormed out the room and expected me to follow. If I didn't, then the conversation was over and so was whatever relationship we had. I was tempted to stay in place, to get into bed like I'd been planning before, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't think he'd be this upset, and if I left him to go through it alone he'd never forgive me. I'd lose him from my life completely. And I couldn't do that, to either of us. So I followed him out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning chapter 16, and I want everybody's opinion I can get. Something steamy this way comes, and I don't know how much more I'll be writing for this story, since I didn't have much of a plan anyway. So what level of steam do you guys want? Heavy petting, mouth stuff, butt stuff? I'll try to do whatever you guys are feeling and hopefully start working and post it this weekend if I get any responses by Saturday (3 days times for those in different timezones and that, I don't know how that shit works).


	15. Healing

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

Harry hesitated before he followed me down the steps. I needed to get my head together, because I was trying to be fair to him. I didn't want him to hate me, but there was no way I was letting him leave me. Even if I had to find a place to tie him up or a spell to bind him to me. And I knew that would scare him as much as it scared me. I paced in front of the fire before asking him to sit with me, and perching in front of the fire as a shiver overcame me. He sat on the opposite end of the couch.

"Harry, I'm having a lot of trouble containing myself right now. You must have noticed by now that I don't like feeling pain or sadness and subconsciously change it to anger because it's easier for me. But I don't want to scare you with what I'm feeling. I don't know what to do."

"Tell me what you're thinking. I've said what I've been thinking and how we should move forward in my mind. So what's going through your head?"

I wanted to be honest, but I didn't wanna scare him so I shot him a warning. He wanted my honesty anyway. So I told him what I was thinking down the stairs, that I was torn between tying him away and forcing him to stay with me with a magical pact. I had nothing before him, and there was no way I was letting him go. I realised with a chuckle just how accurate it would be to say that someone would have to pry his hand out of my cold dead fingers for somebody else to have him.

"But I don't want to do something like that, I want you with me because you love me and can't be away from me. So I need you to tell me what needs to change to make you happy, cos going our separate ways will not make me happy."

My Harry looked to me with watery eyes, "I need to spend more time with you. I need to feel loved sometimes. And maybe to try dirtier things, so I'm not waking up with an uncomfortable stiffy and just crying until it goes away because I'm alone in our bed again."

"Then I'll make time for you. I swear, I just need you to give me a chance."

I reached for his hand, wanting his warmth for my seemingly freezing skin. I felt cold all over and all this worry about losing him had given me the shivers. He asked if I was okay and I answered honestly. As long as he didn't leave me, I'd be just fine. My Harry seemed to shrink into himself and asked if he was being an asshole about everything. The question floored me entirely so I had to ask what he meant. He was talking about how hurt I was about him leaving and he was the one who suggested that, as well as staying out all night and making me worry. He was going to keep going but I cut him short.

"Don't start overthinking this, my love. The problem needed fixing, and you were too emotional last night. Yes, I would have rather talked it out before you pushed yourself into a corner thinking about splitting up, but you needed time. And I should have made time for you, not just assumed you knew I loved you and didn't need me around. Honestly, I was getting through it because I link all my plans to being with you. And if I get a full beautiful future with you then it made it easier to not spend all my time with you presently. But I didn't even think about what you thought about it. We're similar in so many ways I just assumed it'd be the same. This is my fault, not yours."

He smiled before biting his lip in thought. He starting pushing my back to the sofa's backrest and curled himself into my side, "Is this okay?"

I relaxed into his touch, tugging him closer with an arm around his waist. I kissed the top of his head and smelled his hair. I'd missed being this close with him. He asked if I really meant I would have bound him magically. I apologised because I couldn't lie, but that would always be my default thought. Not to mention brutalising anyone who laid a hand on him or said anything bad in general. I told him about Abraxas' error the night before with a grin and watched him gape at my smug pride. I told him he was the most important thing to me, and I'd protect him in any way I could.

"What about protecting me from yourself?" He smirked.

"I said any way I can. That is unfortunately outside my range of capability."

He giggled gently, a sweet sound that warmed me completely. I asked where he'd been hiding if his friend Black didn't know where to find him. He tensed a little as he asked if I'd hurt him, given he comes across as close to my Harry because he was grateful for the tutoring that helped him pass his homework assignments. I assured him his friend left exactly the way he was when he started speaking to me because I could tell he was talking platonically. And I appreciate anyone that looked after Harry while my judgement was skewed.

"So, gonna tell me where you ran off to?" I smiled.

He looked up at me through his lashes and a little pink blush coloured his face, "it's private, and near enough unaccessible. So if I show you, can we do something..."

"Dirtier?"

He nodded, tongue sliding across lips and dragging his bottom lip between his teeth. My eyes were drawn to his lips, and I asked if he was sure. The old tales he used to tell after nightmares in the orphanage rolled through my mind, of what his uncle used to make him do or the vulgar things he used to say. It was clear where my mind went in my eyes and he teared up. I felt guilty and immediately apologised for bringing it up.

"It's not that. I just remember you saying before that you waited to get more physical because you wanted to be sure I was ready and wanted it after the shit with my uncle. That's sweet, but you don't need to. It might not be the healthiest way to look at it, but I see those years as somebody else's life. That stuff didn't happen to me, it happened to a poor kid too scared to say a word, not the kid who burned them to death and smiles when he remembers. Because I genuinely smile when I remember them screaming. That kid isn't me. I want my Tom to touch me and make love to me. Is that okay with you?"

I nodded, but made him promise me that if it got too much for him and he remembered what that poor little boy went through then he had to tell me to stop and not try to toughen it out. He promised, even if he made it sound like it was for my benefit alone and not his. I pulled both of us up to stand and kissed him as I'd always imagined. Full lip lock, getting my tongue involved so I could swallow his moans like they gave me life.

"Breakfast and then your secret hideout, or the other way around?"

"What do you think?" I grinned, pulling my hand towards the exit. "We can get food where we're going."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The steam has been planned. Now I just gotta write it and think of a way to end the story...wish me luck


	16. Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made everyone wait for ages, so this chapter is looooooong honey. All the steam I can do is in this chapter, in an attempt to earn forgiveness.

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

Harry tugged my hand along a hallway, miles from our common room on a journey to the unknown. But he was so excited, I'd never seen him this bubbly before. It got too much on multiple occasions as I had to pull him to me for a long kiss. I'd loved kissing him before, long and gentle. Now there was more passion, barely concealed in open-mouthed kisses and fighting tongues, it was a struggle to keep my hands on his waist. I once hoped my Harry would be docile and bend to my will even in kisses, but the bratty fight against my control was definitely hotter. He breathed against my lips that I'd made him wait and hadn't been very nice, so if I wanted his submission then I had to earn him. Which was possibly the sexiest thing he could have said. So I rushed him along before I started taking him in the middle of the hallway. The idea seemed to appeal to him, but obviously not for losing his virginity.

"We're here," he smirked, gesturing at the empty hallway.

And it was empty, no statues or doors, the only painting being an odd-looking tapestry on one wall. "You hide in an empty hallway?"

He instructed me to stand to the side, and paced up and down the hallway with his eyes closed and a thoughtful look on his features. I was almost so distracted by looking at him that I failed to notice the door shimmering into place behind him. But when it caught my eye, all I could do was stare. I heard my Harry's sweet giggle, as he whispered it was magic. I turned my smirk to him. He walked to the door, pushing open the two large door and asking if I was going to stand outside and stare or come inside for something more fun. I rushed in behind him.

The room was warm, heat and light pooling in from a fireplace off to the side and plush loveseat placed in front of it, a rug covering the space between. The room was small, cosy and soft. Contact at my hand drew my attention, Harry's fingers linking with mine while he grinned. I smirked that there was a bed in the corner that I was refusing to look at, not allowing it to tease me more than he had already. He hinted there was something fun on the bed, giggling as he pulled me in the direction of the cushion-covered double bed. But all the vibrant colours only distracted me for a moment before the rope on the headboard caught my attention. And my imagination.

"And what could my sweet little Harry want with a rope tied to our headboard?" I grinned.

"Whatever could you mean? I only brought you here for kisses, I'm classier than that, you know," he giggled.

Gently, I brought my hand up to cup his chin, drawing our lips together for a long kiss. His lips parted against mine, and my tongue moved to devour his mouth. When I pulled away to breathe, his lips tried to follow mine. The mirth faded from his eyes, replaced by his longing and arousal. Sitting on the bed, I brought Harry down to straddle my thighs. He held my shoulders for support, letting me kiss along his jaw and neck, moaning and panting until my lips silenced him. I reached back, letting him look confused as I started untying the rope from the headboard.

"You don't want to tie me?" He pouted, "I was joking about just kissing and you know it."

Still, I said nothing. Realisation dawned on him as I brought his wrists together in front of me, commenting that I'd need to learn some fancy knots to keep him in place. He squirmed a little, excitement palpable as I looped his bound arms around my neck and kissed him again. I had planned to lie back, test his balance by dragging his trapped arms with me and continuing this little make-out session. However, when we next came apart for air, he started moving back.

"While we're on the topic of kissing, I want something else on my lips," he blushed.

I had read about oral before, picturing Harry's innocent lips on me while he learned how to please me and only me. I hadn't expected to try something like that now, but his willingness made me too aroused to say no. The thrill in his eyes brightened as I unhooked his arms from my neck and let him kneel on the floor. Given he didn't have the use of his hands, the movement was graceful and balanced. Beautiful. However, because he was bound, trying to remove my robes was quite the task. I helped where he needed but made him remove my clothes on his own. He'd asked for this, so it was his responsibility to take it. 

I hadn't realised how turned on I'd become until his finger pulled on my cock, freeing it from my underwear. I bearly had a moment to process that sensation before Harry moved his head forward and trapped it once again, now in the suction of his mouth. His excitement pushed him to move quickly, his joined hands playing with the section he couldn't fit in his mouth, while the top was being slurped at like Harry was starving for me. And I supposed he was. I felt my control slip within moments, Harry taking the reigns as he picked up the pace. Thoughts flashed, ideas to take back my control racing around out of my reach until I grabbed one. My fingers slid through Harry's hair, grabbing and pulling so his movements halted.

"Trying to take control, my love? That's not how this works." He grinned at my tone, licking his swollen lips.

"Oops, sorry," he chuckled.

"Given I'm supposed to be making amends with you, 'earning' your submission I believe you said," I smirked, "it wouldn't be right to make the pleasure so onesided. And as I see it, the best way to keep you in line is by making you so pleased you can't think of misbehaving, let alone doing so."

He bit his lip, body trembling with need and desire. I dragged him back up by his arms and instructed him to drape himself over me, with his knees either side on my head. There was something else I'd read about, helpful for situations like this, that I wanted to try. I wanted him to come apart at his seams, and maybe my tongue was the ticket to doing that.

* * *

**(Harry's P.O.V)**

I'd thought to ask the room for rope for a reason, there was a huge part of me that was desperate to have Tom take control of me. I wanted him to use me like that because I knew he'd work to make me feel good too. And it was strangely really hot to blow him like that, have his ever-present control slip because of me. And having my hands bound and unable to really touch myself made it all the hotter for me. The bondage only really lost it's edge after he changed our position, and had me straddle my crotch in his face. It was sexy, but getting settled comfortably so I could continue sucking him off and hold myself up so I didn't choke was a struggle.

Finally as comfortable as I could get, I pulled his dick closer and ran my tongue along the side. It was strangely nice, and having the weight in my mouth was good too. Something I could definitely get used to. I started back where I left off, quickly swallowing him down and moaning around his length. My moans got sharply louder when I felt something wet press again my hole. I hadn't even noticed Tom spread my cheeks apart, but his squirming tongue felt so good as it slowly tried working its way in. My back end ground onto his tongue further, until a sharp swat made me pull back entirely. But I kept his dick in my mouth.

"Move this ass back, baby. And good job keeping my cock where it belongs."

Those words had me quaking. I felt like my mouth was just a hole for him to use, which was everything I wanted. I wanted to feel like his whore when he had sex because I knew I was so much more to him than that outside the bedroom. I trusted him to control me and knew anything degrading he said would be because it'd make me moan a little louder. His mouth felt amazing, but it wasn't all I wanted.

"Tom, please. Hurry it along, baby. I want you inside me, and I want it months ago."

Another sharp swat landed on my ass, "watch your attitude, or I'll stop entirely."

"Please don't stop. I'm sorry, please. I just need you."

His hand reached up to pull my face away from his groin. He jostled me around, which was a little awkward and stiff, but left me on all fours without him under me. He asked if I'd considered wishing the magic room to give us lube, but I wasn't sure. I asked for a place to fuck with bondage as I'd see in a book of porn illustrations. But that didn't necessarily mean we had lube.

"You're very lucky I'm a smart boy," he chuckled.

Something was mumbled, and something wet circled my asshole. He knew a lubrication spell?! Why? I asked but got a whispered _'wouldn't you like to know'_ in my ear instead of a real answer. It was annoying, so I decided to do something equally annoying. I asked if he'd learned it fooling around with someone else while I was sleeping cold and alone. His finger pushed in, quicker than I thought he would, and hooked drag me back a little. It was almost painful.

"I learned this spell a while ago, for when I jerked off and wanted a wet hand." He growled, "I'm getting rather tired of you thinking so little of me."

I rushed out an apology, squirming back and keeping my head down. I didn't want him to stop, not when his answer was kind of lewd. I begged him to talk about it more, while he spread me open.

"You want me to talk dirty, huh?" He sounded a little nervous, but I nodded. "I can certainly try if you want me to."

I mewled as he twisted his finger, trying to make me a loose with his one finger as he could before he tries to add another.

"I'm sure you've done it too, my Harry. Touching yourself, thinking of me, wishing it was my hand on your cock, or even my mouth. I think of you that way too, Harry, most nights even. I imagine your mouth on my dick, sucking me dry for everything I can give you, and using that spell to make my hand wet makes it all the better. Makes it feel more like your mouth, warm and wet, desperate for my cum."

My moaning encouraged him to keep talking, crying out as he speared into me with three fingers after the discomfort subsided. It was heavenly, being filled by a part of the boy I've loved most of my life. But I wanted more of him, I wanted to connect to him and to give him pleasure. I wanted us to finally be together, no more waiting. All the books showed three fingers was enough.

"Please, baby. I'm stretched, I need you inside me. Please!"

His fingers pulled out and I was almost shaking with anticipation. He pulled me back a bit and I felt the head start pushing. He held my hips steady when I tried to push back and asked if I was sure. I chose to just wriggle back, knowing my voice wouldn't hold out for a real answer. Then he pushed in, we were finally connecting and he was becoming a part of me. But maybe three fingers weren't quite enough, because it really fucking hurt.

* * *

**(Tom's P.O.V)**

It was amazing to finally be inside my Harry, my sweet love who opened up to me like a flower and begged to feel connected to me like this. And he was so warm and tight, almost too tight because I felt close after the first inch. But I saw his shoulders tense and heard the squeak in his gasp, so I stopped moving. He needed to get used to feeling open like this. I stroked his lower back and told him how good he was doing, we just needed to go slowly. I'd read books, but they just said to move slowly through pain and make sure my partner was okay. How slowly should I move? Was this even a good idea if I didn't know what I was doing?

"Do you want me to stop, Harry?"

"God no!" He yelled, shifting back before I could stop him and pushing me further in. "It hurts, but I just need it slow. Push in slowly and stop when you're all the way. Then I'll take a second."

I trusted his judgement, Harry knew what he could take better than most. So I inched in again and I didn't stop. I stroked his back, and reminded him to breathe and try to push me out so it went in easier. Once I bottomed out, I stopped so he could adjust. Truthfully, I'd have had to stop anyway. He was so tight I could have finished from one thrust if I didn't let myself calm down. Maybe next time I should use more than three fingers.

"Go slow, baby."

With a gentle grip, I held his hips and slowly shifted backwards. I pulled away until his backend housed just the head, before pushing in just as slowly. It was mind-numbingly good, better than anything I'd ever felt or thought I'd feel. It was so delicious on my tongue, and there was something exciting about doing something filthy like that. But plunging into his sweet hole was amazing. Everything singled onto this connection of our bodies and I was lost to everything else until I felt him tapping my leg.

"What?" I asked, looking away from his ass to his smirking face.

"I was saying, it's starting to feel really good, so you can go a little faster if you want to. But you were off somewhere."

"Trust me, " I smirked back, "I know it feels good."

I moved out just as slowly, now able to listen to his pleasured groan, and snapped my hips back in. My Harry screeched, pushing back and gripping the bedsheets in his bound hands. He was at my mercy, and that was just as sweet a high as being inside him. I continued the pulling out slowly and snapping in pattern for a while, feeling like I need slow movement or I'd cum immediately. But his moaning was loudest when I went quicker, and when I started to thrust hard and fast after a hip snap he was crying out constantly, begging me not to stop. But I wanted to see his face, see the pleasure in his eyes.

I whipped out quickly, hearing him whine as I grabbed his knees and flipped him onto his back in one motion. It was definitely a benefit that he was so scrawny. He looked up at me in surprise as I spread his legs and lifted his hips. I watched as he bit his lips, looking up at me in a way I'd never seen him. Face flushed, eyes dark and pupils blown, lips trembling as he begged me to enter him again. He was maybe the single sexiest thing I'd ever seen. So I gave him what he asked for.

Pushing in was easier, and the pleasure hit immediately in his face. I pulled his arms to loop around my neck again and started moving as fast as before. It was a whole new sensation fucking him this way. I could kiss him now, swallowing his moans and still pounding him as hard as I could.

"Please, touch me. I'm so close, please stroke my cock. Please."

I took his hard dick, loving his whimper in my ear, and started moving my hand in time to my hips. It gave me enough courage to give him what he really wanted. "Such a good boy, aren't you Harry? Taking my cock like you were made for it. You were, weren't you? Made to take cock like a little whore. And I'm more than willing to give it to you. I will ruin you, I will fuck you so good that nobody will measure up to me. You'll always be begging for this. Beg me, bitch. Beg me to let you come."

And beg he did. He pleaded with me, almost in tears by the shine in his eyes, squirming and tugging my nack down to kiss along my jaw. I squeezed his cock tighter, giving him everything and ordering him to finish. He didn't even make a noise, head thrown back and cum shooting across my knuckles and his chest. What I didn't factor in was that his asshole would pulse, getting tighter and drawing my climax out of me before I knew it was coming. I was so focused on making him feel good I didn't realise how close I really was.

I pulled out and moved to lay beside him. "I intend to keep my word there. I will ruin you for anyone else, and you won't be capable of leaving me."

He giggled, curling into my side and pressing little kisses on my shoulder and neck. He promised that if I screwed him like that and paid attention to him, he wouldn't leave me until he'd died. I swore to hold him to that, and that I'd never make him feel like I didn't love him again. I'd show him every day, and make sure I spent quality time with him, at least enough to talk to him before we had sex.

He chuckled, "I love you too. Why don't we get dressed, so I can get filled with something other than your dick for a second?"

"The physical exertion has heightened my appetite also, we can always have more sex some other time."

He stood up and shoved my shoulder, making me smile. We'd be alright, I was sure of it. And if it was only death that could part us in his mind, I'd share the secret of Horcruxes with him. Then even death couldn't take him from me. My Harry will be mine forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a lousy ending, but I'm not good at writing actual stories with a strong plot. My plots are the slow burn of romance building to some sex because I suck at keeping up with it long enough to try and write long into the future. So I hope you enjoyed the end, maybe I'll do an epilogue if I can find the will to live again. Or look out for more stories, cos now I'm writing a chapter by chapter plan before I write. So it actually turns out good ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭


End file.
